


I Want To Fall Into This Dream

by Trams



Category: The Magnificent Seven (2016)
Genre: Action/Adventure, Alternate Universe, Angst with a Happy Ending, Bathtubs, Humor, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Magic, Mind Control, Mutual Pining, Mythical Beings & Creatures, Romance, Sharing a Bed, Sort Of, Wuxia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-23
Updated: 2019-08-23
Packaged: 2020-09-24 20:02:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 44,019
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20364298
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Trams/pseuds/Trams
Summary: Billy Rocks, on the run fled to another world where the first thing he did was accidentally steal a horse, and later stole Goodnight Robicheaux's heart.An owl from another world followed Goodnight Robicheaux from the war. And then he met Billy Rocks who changed his life. And maybe Goody changed Billy's life as well.





	I Want To Fall Into This Dream

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by Edna's art (which had the name magical creatures and I sort of ran with that before coming back to the actual art). Which is super pretty and you can find it towards the end of the fic because including it earlier would be slightly spoilery.
> 
> Also when I was workshopping my idea for the fic, about what if there's a breach between two worlds, the canon world and a simillar world but full of mystical creatures that start to invade the canon world and Billy is travelling along this breach forcing these creatures back. Edna was the one suggesting maybe Billy would be from that world as well, and that changed pretty much the whole story for the better, so thank you for that suggestion. I had so much fun writing this even though it might not quite live up to what I talked about at the beginning of the summer I do hope it does to some extent do justice to your art. ^^
> 
> A clarification of the mind control tag is in the end note if that's something you'd want to be warned about. Its a bit spoilery which is why I am including it at the end. But since I would want that clarification I thought I should include it.
> 
> Huge thanks to Fontaine for organizing this fun bigbang! :D

**~*~ THE PAST ~*~**

Billy never meant to steal the horse – he did steal an apple, possibly; he wasn’t sure about the laws in this place yet, he’d only just arrived and already becoming a horse thief felt a little unnecessary, but it was an accident – all he’d done was take an apple from a branch hanging over a fence near the small dirt road Billy had been walking on, and when he’d eaten half the apple he came across the horse just standing there alone, but with saddle and bridle, Billy had given the horse the rest of the apple – it had seemed like the right thing to do at the time – he hadn’t known that would result in the horse following him.

He had told it to turn around and go back, of course, had even tried tying it to a fence post, but he had only made it a short distance before he heard trotting behind him and when he turned around the horse had stopped next to him again, looking at Billy with eyes that seemed way to intelligent and Billy had stroked the white stripe of fur down from its forehead to muzzle and said “you belong here just as much as I do don’t you?”

So Billy had accepted his new role as accidental horse thief along with all the other things he was accused of. After all, he reasoned, it would be a lot easier to be on the run on horseback rather than on his own two feet. He named his new horse Apple and rode west.

**~*~**

The owl had found Goody after a battle at the tail end of the war, and after that day it would always be there, in the corner of his eye during the day, and staring him down in the night. The owl followed him from the end of the war; accompanied him back to Louisiana, back to a home that was just as unrecognizable as Goody himself. He looked at himself in the mirror and what he saw was a stranger.

“Do my eyes look different?” He asked his older sister Hope one afternoon, but all she said was that she didn’t remember. She looked different too; Goody wasn’t sure if it was the black dress – Hope had always worn such colorful dresses in the past – or if it was simply the passing of time.

He tried to tell his oldest sister Grace about the owl, but she claimed she couldn’t see it, even though it was sitting on a branch in the garden, a full moon shining down on its brown feathers, with its wide head and dark eyes staring straight at Goody.

Eventually he had to leave, couldn’t stand looking at himself in the mirror, couldn’t stand feeling like he didn’t belong anymore. The owl followed him from Louisiana, and Goody couldn’t stand looking at it either, not with its second pair of eyes and the way it looked like they were changing.

**~*~**

Goodnight Robicheaux met Billy Rocks in Eastern Texas on a spring evening with the smell of approaching rain and a strange energy in the air like the world was holding its breath waiting for something to happen – or perhaps that was just a poetic after thought because of how Goodnight’s life changed after meeting Billy.

He had finished pitching his tent that evening – usually he wouldn’t bother and simply slept on his bedroll under the starry sky, but the way dark clouds had gathered in the sky during the afternoon and evening didn’t look promising. He had been in town earlier, getting supplies as well as a shave, his cheeks and chin now free from stubble; but perhaps he should have looked for a room as well. But what was done was done, and he simply had to make the best of the situation – and was lighting a fire when he first saw the animal. At first he didn’t realize what he is looking at. Glancing away from the flames as they grew in size he spotted the heads of three cats peeking up from behind a rock, the grey and black striped heads looked unusually large for cats, their green eyes were large and curious, but vary as they watched Goody.

“Hey kitties,” Goody called out and watched as all three heads disappeared behind the rock. He heard a soft meow a moment later, but what walked out into the light of the fire was not what Goody expected at all. Gasping he recoiled, sitting straight and staring at the three headed thing. It had the body of a cat, albeit longer than the length of a man’s torso, short grey fur with black stripes and a tail standing up straight. It was the three heads that got all the attention though, it looked as if someone had gotten the myth about Hades’ three-headed dog all wrong and thought that it was a cat instead.

“Don’t spook her,” a soft voice said from behind Goody, and Goody flinched he hadn’t heard anyone approach. But when he looked behind him he saw a man a few feet away, and Goody was immediately struck by the realization that he must be looking at the most beautiful man he’d ever seen. Dark black hair pulled up at the back of his head a few strands hanging loose, brown intense eyes glinting in the firelight, a pair of almost indecently tight black pinstriped pants; and Goody knew a thing or two about tight pants; and a pale shirt with sleeves rolled up showing off his forearms.

“I’ve been chasing her for two days,” the man said. “Which is odd, they usually love me.”

“What is it?” Goody looked between the creature and this stranger unsure if it was the strange cat-like creature, or the man’s beauty making him short of breath – he suspected the latter, but that didn’t diminish the fact that his brain was still trying to wrap itself around the three headed creature he was seeing as well; how could such a thing be real?

“A cat,” the man said, expression unchanging, but the tone of his voice implied that he was probably judging Goody for asking a question to which the answer should be obvious. Goody wanted to debate this point, but the man continued to say: “Distract it.”

“How?”

“I don’t know, throw it something to eat.”

Goody pulled his bag closer; one cat head was watching him, the other two were watching Billy, it hadn’t moved from its spot next to the rock. Goody rummaged around and found some jerky which he tossed in the cat’s direction, it landed a foot or so in front of it and all three heads zeroed in on it before pouncing at the meat. At the same moment the stranger moved as well throwing himself forward and grabbing the cat, all three heads mewled in protest, and it tried squirming around for a bit as the stranger struggled to hold it.

In the end though the man got back on his feet holding the creature against his chest. It was large enough that the man’s hand supporting the creature’s bottom was held a little below hip-level and the heads were resting on his shoulders, one head on one shoulder, and the other two on the other shoulder. As Goody was looking at the man from behind – only momentarily distracted – he noticed all three heads of the cat looking very displeased, its tail swinging back and forth.

The man turned around and whistled, a low sound and a second later Goody could hear the sound of horse hooves trotting, and soon enough a chestnut mare came into view. It stopped next to the man who clicked his tongue twice and snapped his fingers once, and the horse started walking in another direction and the man without another look at Goody or another word started following the horse.

Goody wasn’t sure what impulse made him do it, but he got up on his feet and followed as well. The man glanced over at Goody for a moment, but didn’t say anything before looking straight forward again. The cat-creature still had its heads on his shoulders, six pairs of eyes closed and when Goody got even closer he could hear loud purring.

It wasn’t fully dark yet and as such Goody could see where they were going and it looked like they were heading towards the only copse of trees for miles. They stopped as they reached the first couple of trees.

“You wanna tell me what that thing is?”

“It’s a cat.”

“Don’t look like any cat I’ve ever seen,” Goody says. “Too many heads.”

“Hm” The man hummed and turned away. He swept a hand through the air, and the second strangest thing he’d seen that night happened; a white light seemed to envelope the man’s hand, shining brightly and where the hand moved a white jagged line seemed to appear in the middle of the air. Goody was staring, he knew his chin was practically on the ground. A few centuries earlier and he would be shouting _“witchcraft”_. The jagged line seemed to widen and through it spilled more white light.

“Alright,” the man said, and Goody looked back at him, but he seemed to be talking to the thing— _the cat_. One of the heads made a protesting noise and another one growled a little.

“None of that now,” the man said. “You have to go back home now, you are freaking out the locals.”

Another of the heads made a pitiful noise.

“No, I know you have been having fun here but you can’t stay.”

“You can understand them?” Goody asked.

The man looked at him.

“No, I am assuming.” He paused. “You can understand animals here?” He asked.

“No.”

An awkward silence settled over them.

“Right,” the stranger said, with a small shake of his head and turned back to the gap in reality – Goody didn’t want to think about that too much – and started to lift the cat towards it when Goody before he could think put a hand on the stranger’s arm.

“Wait, where will it go?” Goody asked.

“Home.” The way he said it made Goody wonder if it meant the man’s home as well.

“I have no idea what is going on here,” Goody said honestly, feeling very bewildered and he knew it showed.

“Probably for the best.”

“I don’t think I will be able to let this go without any answers,” Goody said. “You never hear _‘curiosity killed the cat’_?” The man tilted his head slightly, before looking at the cat again.

“You hear that? Don’t be so curious.” The middle head made a noise of protest. “And don’t talk back to me.”

“Can I touch it?” Goody asked, and for the first time the other man’s expression actually changed, this time into surprise, with raised eyebrows and widened eyes as he looked at Goody.

“Uh, sure,” he said, as if he didn’t quite understand why he’d asked, but Goody ignored that and reached out petting the first head on its forehead, the fur was soft under his fingers it felt like a real cat. He petted the other two heads as well getting a gentle purr and closed eyes in exchange and he couldn’t help but smile a little. He stepped back after a moment and watched as the other man gently lifted the cat towards the gap and pushed it through. A white light enveloped both the cat and the man’s hands for a moment before he pulled his hands back with a hiss and shook them a little.

“It hurt?” Goody asked. The man shook his head.

“It tickles, feels a bit numb.”

“Ah.” He paused. “Can I ask your name?”

“What for?”

“I’m curious.”

“Thought you said curiosity was bad.”

“The second half of the saying is _‘but satisfaction brought it back.’_”

The man let out a snort but he smiled, only a tiny smile and there was something like amusement glittering in his eyes in the last rays of sunlight.

“My name is Goodnight Robicheaux.” Goody introduced himself to start things off, he held out his hand, and the other man took it, his grip firm, and the fingerless leather gloves he wore were warm.

“Billy Rocks.”

“Pleasure making your acquaintance Billy Rocks.”

Before either of them could say anything else Goody heard the soft sound of wings flapping in the air, followed by rustling in the leaves, and he was so used to it he didn’t have to turn around to see the owl that had surely landed in a branch behind him. However he noticed with surprise Billy’s widening eyes, and gaze drawn to a spot over Goody’s shoulder.

“You can see it,” Goody mumbled surprised and turned around just to confirm, perhaps it was a different bird. But when he turned the owl turned its head as well, and it opened its eyes on the back of its head, it’s unsettlingly human eyes. The blue eyes made Goody shiver and he turned away again. Billy’s expression was serious now as he was looking at Goody again.

“It’s been following you for a long time,” Billy said, it wasn’t even phrased like a question.

“What?”

“The eyes. They didn’t look like that in the beginning, right?”

“It used to be these two voids, two white holes in the back of its head. At first I thought it was just markings on the feathers, but then they blinked.” He shivered remembering how it had felt the first time he saw them blink. “It showed up towards the end of the war. Has been following me since.”

He saw Billy nodding.

“They are often drawn to soldiers,” he paused. “They feed on guilt and regret and grief. You must have a lot of it for it to have stayed with you for long.”

Goody looked down at the ground. He didn’t want to talk about the past.

“No one has ever been able to even see it except me.”

“Probably because it and I are from the same place.”

Goody looked up at him again.

“Where are you from?”

“Not here.”

“I‘m guessing you don’t mean you’re from the east.” He looked at the gap again, Billy following his gaze.

“Can I put it back there?”

“Yes,” Billy said. “If we can catch it.”

“And will it stay away?”

“I don’t know. But I think so. The tricky part will be capturing it.”

“Not really,” Goody said.

He didn’t like doing it, but he had discovered it by accident one day. “All I have to do is this.” He snapped his fingers and the owl flew down to him, seating itself on his shoulder and its talons digging into Goody’s flesh through vest and shirt. He hissed and closed his eyes both against that pain and against the wave of nausea that always overcame him when he was too close to the bird.

“Oh, that’s convenient.”

“I hate it,” Goody muttered. “It feels like I am going to throw up.”

“It would probably like it if you did.”

Goody still had his eyes closed and didn’t open them to watch Billy’s expression.

“Now what?” he asked, jaw clenched against the continued nauseated feeling, his stomach was rolling and his heart beating fast and he felt grimy all over.

“Open your eyes and walk a bit closer.”

Taking a step forward made the bird on his shoulder sway and Goody had to stop himself from bending forward and emptying his stomach of all he had eaten that day. Suddenly Billy was standing right in front of him, barely any room between them.

“Look me in the eyes,” Billy said. Goody looked him in the eye, but when Billy made a movement he couldn’t help looking away following the movement of Billy’s hands as he lifted them up and grabbed hold of the owl’s legs. Pain shot through Goody’s body as it dug its claws deeper into his shoulder, he could see blood starting to seep through his shirt, and he had to bite down hard and swallow repeatedly. And then the owl screeched, but it wasn’t the sound of a bird or any animal, the screech was disturbingly human.

“Look at me,” Billy ordered as Goody started swaying back and forth, his head spinning. He looked back into Billy’s eyes, brown and warm, and so deep he could get lost in them.

It was almost a good distraction as the owl was ripped from his shoulder, and Goody shouted in pain. Looking to his side again he saw Billy spin towards the crack, bird screeching and growling, wings spread out as Billy threw it through the gap and soon the world was silent again. Goody looked at himself, his shoulder throbbing with pain, his shirt town and deep bloody welts on his shoulder. A strong hand grabbed his other arm, steadying him.

“It’s gone.” Billy said.

“What the hell–” Goody looked around them, while Billy walked up to the crack again running a hand over it and it seemed to close up a little bit once more, but Goody could still see the faint outline of it hanging in the air.

“What–” he tried to make his head wrap around all of it. “What is going on?” He looked at Billy. “Who are you?”

“Billy Rocks.”

Goody gave him an unimpressed stare.

“Let’s go back to your fire,” BIlly said. “It’s not going to be easy to explain. You probably won’t believe it anyway.”

“I think what I’ve seen so far might make me a little bit more open,” Goody said.

“Perhaps.”

It was dark when they reached the fire, or where the fire had been, it had gone out by the time they returned to it and Goody leaned down to light it again when a hand on his still okay shoulder stilled him.

“Let me,” Billy murmured and knelt down on the ground.

Billy cupped is hands over his mouth blowing on them, and when he lowered his hands to the ground palms up, sparks danced from his hands and into the gathered wood and kindle, and soon flames started growing. Goody could do nothing but stare in surprise and a little bit of trepidation as Billy rose to his feet again.

“Thought it was best to get that out of the way first.”

“You know magic,” Goody said voice trembling a little. Billy shrugged.

“Sort of.” He motioned to the ground and Goody sat down. “Let me look at that,” Billy said standing next to Goody and Goody sat completely still as Billy pushed aside the torn fabric on his shoulder. He turned his head to look as Billy’s right hand hovered above the scratches left by the talons. .

“There are–” Billy paused paused as a blue light emanated from his hand and Goody watched in fascination how his skin started to knit itself together, the pain growing duller and duller. He glanced up at Billy’s focused eyes, and how the blue light was reflected in them, making them glow. “There are different worlds,” Billy continued, “there is no knowing if its many or just mine and yours. They are similar in a lot of ways.”

“Similar?”

“And very different in many ways.”

“I’d say, we don’t have three headed cats or owls that eat what did you say they ate?”

“Regret and guilt.”

“That. And we don’t have _magic._”

The skin on Goody’s shoulder looked like new, as if there hadn’t been a wound there at all. Bille pulled his hand back.

“So I’ve noticed,” Billy said and walked to the other side of the fire to sit down. “But I have managed to blend in here for three weeks so it’s not completely different either.”

“Why are you here? How did you get here?”

“You saw the breach. There are many of them. Ah, how to explain this.” He looked away for a moment before meeting Goody’s eyes again. “Imagine that there is this glass wall, and it surrounds your planet protecting it from my world, and protecting my world from yours.”

Goody wasn’t sure what to think but he didn’t want to interrupt him.

“And then someone took a large rock and smashed it into the glass, but it didn’t break, not completely the rock was jammed halfway through the glass and these cracks spread out from the rock.”

“Someone smashed a rock into a glass wall between worlds?”

Billy shrugged. “It’s the explanation I heard. I don’t think it’s meant to be taken literal. The cracks are visible in my world, and here they are practically invisible.”

“And what, you are here to make sure nothing slips through?” Goody asked. Billy hesitated looking away from Goody and into the fire.

“I suppose so,” Billy mumbled.

“Can I help?”

**~*~ THE PRESENT ~*~**

There was no magic in this world; but Billy retained some of the power he had back in the other world – his home which had never felt like home – he wasn’t trained in magic, not many were, but everyone had something; a small spark inside of them which let them do certain things, with or without training. He could understand though, why Goody had thought he knew magic, growing up in a world devoid of it; a world so vulnerable, they had no defenses for what lay on the other side.

It hadn’t been his plan to follow the breach and keep things from entering this world – he should have gone far away from the breach in case they came looking for him. But he worried that the only reason he retained the spark in his chest was because it was fueled from the magic trickling out of the breach, and he wasn’t quite ready to let it go. The first time he had run into one of the carnivorous horses on this side of the breach he had thought it couldn’t hurt to help just this time, tricking it back into the breach to return to its rightful world; and after he had done so, when he mounted his – accidentally stolen non-carnivorous – horse he had just ridden on until the next time he noticed something had come through; and then the next, and the next, until soon it had become a habit. A habit which he had continued with after meeting Goody four weeks later; and now it had been six months and they were still following the breach. It was a thing he – they – were doing and Billy couldn’t remember ever actually making a decision to help protect this other world.

Billy panted hard, running and jumping over tree roots and rocks as he tried to catch up. All with one thought running through his mind: _It had been a mistake letting Goody play bait_. They hadn’t expected it to take a different route, and now Billy was far from where he needed to be.

In the distance he heard a loud howl that made the blood in his body freeze. He shivered despite how hot he felt. He could only hope now that Goody wouldn’t take any stupid risks.

He probably shouldn’t have let Goody tag along in the first place, this was dangerous work and the man didn’t have a drop of magic on his side. However, despite Billy’s worries Goody had been very helpful, and Billy had grown quite attached to the man.

He heard another howl, closer this time – _“wishful thinking”_ floated through his mind followed by “only a madman would be running _towards_ danger” – and he pushed forward with another burst of speed. He thought he could hear Goody as well, shouting something, but Billy didn’t hear the words.

He skidded out into the clearing where they had determined the breach was located, though at the moment it was barely open; only a thin white line, almost invisible in the middle of the air. Goody had told him he couldn’t even see the breach until Billy opened it.

Billy’s focus at the moment however was on the werewolf the size of a pony – one of those fat ones, on short legs with a pointy horn on their forehead, the ones that liked to hunt and eat rabbits; Billy had told Goody about them and Goody had looked both surprised and slightly disturbed; confirming Billy’s suspicion that horses were largely harmless in this world – rising up on its hind legs and Goody standing in front of it aiming his shotgun at the werewolf, but not pulling the trigger.

“Now, Billy!” Goody shouted to Billy who rushed to the tree they had tied the rope to earlier. At the same time as the wolf put down its front legs on the ground, Billy kicked the rudimentary lever they had built from a thick sturdy tree branch, which held up a large rock. Billy’s kick broke it and the rock fell, pulling the rope tied to the rock taut around the wolf’s front legs before pulling it up into the air. Billy smiled, satisfied at the wolf hanging from the tree growling and snarling and kicking uselessly with its hind legs.

“What took you so long?” Goody asked. Billy took off his hat and wiped the sweat off his forehead, pushing a few loose strands of hair behind his ears.

“It took another route than I thought it would,” Billy said. “It was already halfway back here before I realized.” It had been Billy’s job to make sure the wolf actually followed Goody, to slow it down if it looked like it would catch up before they reached the breach.

Goody reached out to touch the wolf, it snapped its jaws and growled, but it couldn’t reach Goody or his hand, which was softly stroking the werewolf’s side, Billy didn’t stop him; he had noticed Goody’s tendency to want to touch the beings that came through; Billy supposed it was a way for him to convince himself they were actually real.

“I would have felt safer with a couple of silver bullets,” Goody muttered continuing to stroke the wolf which was still growling and twitching where it was hanging.

“I told you silver does nothing to them,” Billy said.

“It’s not about how effective, or not it is,” Goody said, turning to Billy. “It’s the symbolism.”

“Let’s get this done before the sun sets,” Billy said, changing the subject instead of answering. “I don’t want to make my way back through the woods in the dark.”

He walked over to the breach, running his hand over it. The breach recognized him – he wasn’t sure it recognized him specifically, but it did somehow recognize that he had come from the world on the other side of it – and slowly opened, the white light growing stronger as it enveloped his hand. The energy from it made his hand tingle and prick, it felt much the same as when you sat too long on your leg or slept with your hand or arm under your head. When he came through it had been a full body experience, the stinging almost unbearable all over him.

“So, feral werewolf,” Goody said behind him. “I’m guessing that wolf court you talked about are responsible for those.”

“The Court of Wolves,” Billy corrected absentmindedly. “And no. There are no werewolves in the Court.” He paused and thought about that statement. “Officially at least.”

“That is almost as disappointing as when you said there are no dragons in The Court of Dragons.”

“Well, we don’t have any dragons. It’s been centuries since they went extinct.” Billy walked over to Goody and together they started pushing the hanging werewolf so that it started swinging back and forth.

“Well at least werewolves are still real.”

Billy raised an eyebrow. “I thought you said there were too many dangerous creatures from my world.”

“There is, but there is something very exciting about a creature from myth and legend existing.”Goody said. “Though the sensible part of me–”

‘_Sensible?_’ Billy mouthed at him, but Goody just kept on talking. “– do wish we had to deal more with those three headed cats and fewer things that want to eat us.”

The arch the swinging werewolf was making was finally right and Billy pulled one of his knives jumping up and slicing the rope. The wolf howled the whole way as it sailed through the air and was swallowed up by the breach.

Billy hurried forward and closed it as well as he could, which was he noticed not a lot, the breach seemed slightly wider than before, and he regarded it silently for a moment before he became aware of Goody’s talking again; his companion didn’t do well with silence.

“Weren’t you the one saying we should get back before the sun sets?”

Billy shook himself out of his temporary reverie and turned around and nodded. They quickly gathered the rope again, Goody offering to carry it and then started trekking back towards the edge of the woods where they had left the horses in an old abandoned lumber camp.

Billy was silent as they walked listening to Goody tell him about the stories he had read as a young man, about werewolves and other monsters lurking in the forest at night. Stories of myth and legend in this world; the creatures in those stories were never real Goody told him, and yet the people making them up were sometimes strangely close to describing very real monsters back in Billy’s world.

Once they reached their camp Billy started the fire while Goody began unpacking their bedrolls before starting on their dinner.

“You’re not hurt right?” Billy suddenly realized he never asked, as the stood up and straightened looking down at Goody, kneeling by the fire. “A single scratch…”

Goody looked up at him with a warm smile that made Billy’s insides squirm and heat up in a way he wasn’t comfortable with and yet wanted more of. Goody’s eyes glittered, they had come alive, bright blue and not the dull lifeless eyes of the man Billy had first met, and Billy wondered if any of it was because of him being in Goody’s life or if it was all due to the disappearance of the owl. He knew what he wished was true – _“so full of wishful thinking”_ he scolded himself.

“I’m fine,” Goody said. “It never even touched me.”

“It was a dumb idea letting you be bait.”

The corners of Goody’s eyes hardened, his mouth becoming a thin line of a frown instead of his smile. There was a sting of regret in Billy’s chest, he shouldn’t have said anything.

“I know how to take care of myself,” Goody said. “And I want to be useful.”

Billy almost pointed out that Goody was already useful, that Billy appreciated his companionship the most, but he didn’t know how to phrase it right. Didn’t want to drive the smile even further into hiding. He still didn’t quite know why Goody was sticking around, following him for six months, when Billy still couldn’t answer the question _“where are you going?”_ because the truth was that he didn’t know where he was going.

_And if sometimes he wished Goody was sticking around for Billy, well then that was going to be his secret._

“I know,” Billy said instead. “You are,” he said more quietly.

“And it all worked out rather well,” Goody said, turning back to cooking, and Billy smiled watching the curve of Goody’s jaw, the way the fire made his skin glow, and his insides felt so warm; so happy that their reckless plan had in fact worked out.

Setting aside those other growing feelings he didn’t quite want to acknowledge; it had been enormously helpful to have a companion from this world to explain how it worked, because while there were similarities there were also huge differences. This world seemed larger; they had travelled for months and yet when Goody pointed out the distance on a map they had only been in a very, very small corner of this continent only; there was more land to both the north and the south, as well as other continents across the oceans both to the east and the west.

On a more personal level though people’s attitudes towards him didn’t really differ, they just had different reasons for their bigotry. No matter where he went he was the outcast; and so Goody had been a surprise.

Billy hadn’t been talkative at first, had assumed Goody would leave eventually, especially after the two chimeras back to back; but Goody had stayed around, and eventually Goody had stopped being the one telling Billy about his world, and instead Billy had started talking as well, the two of them comparing and contrasting their different worlds over the fire in between bites of dinner; on horseback during midday when the sun beat down mercilessly, and they had to find something, anything to do to not fall asleep on horseback and end up with heatstroke.

“What you said about there not being any werewolves officially in the court,” Goody said later after dinner, when they were both lying on their bedrolls looking up at the stars. “Does that mean there are unofficial werewolves?”

“The courts exist to protect people,” Billy said, parroting the words that had been drilled into him.

“Well, you clearly do need protection from all those things running around.”

“How much do you trust your government?”

“Touchy subject that,” Goody said. “But I think I see your point.”

“It’s a secret everyone knows about,” Billy started, “how there are wolves not just in The Court of Wolves, but all of them.” He shrugged. “It’s not a big deal. There’s nothing wrong with them as long as they aren’t feral. I think the worst that can be said about them is how they smell like wet dog regardless of which form they are in on a rainy day.”

“All of them,” Goody said. “Does that include that _Lost Court_ you mentioned. Though how a court can go missing is beyond me.”

“I don’t know how it went missing,” Billy said,“it was before my time.” Long before his time. “And nobody knows. No one knows anything about that court.” It was probably as much a myth and legend as werewolves were in this world.

“There’s a story,” Goody started. “A myth really. About a city, a whole island disappearing.”

Billy turned over and looked at Goody, a little curious.

“It sank. Devoured by the ocean, tall waves swallowing it up as it sank to the bottom of the sea. The whole city was there at one point and the next it was just gone.”

“So it could have happened you mean?.”

“It’s just a legend,” Goody said.”

“The Lost Court of my world is probably one as well. Though most people talk about it as if it actually happened.” He paused for a beat “There once were Seven Courts, but only six remain. No one left alive to remember what happened.”

“Both worlds filled with mysteries,” Goody mumbled. “Yours just seem more fantastical and, yet all of it, completely real.”

“Well, there are some myths that aren’t real,” Billy said. “There’s this myth about an invisible people living side by side with us, and if you are kind to them they won’t do anything to you, but offend them in any way and they will mess with you in ways that eventually will get you killed. But that’s just a story. They aren’t real.”

“Let’s hope so, because most things seem to be real in your world.”

**~*~**

_“People don’t live long if they don’t belong to a court,”_ the man who Billy had been calling his father, despite the lack of any real blood relation, had told Billy when he was 13, before he tried to sell Billy to The Court of Shadows – not the official court, but the real court had almost no power anymore, the Shadow Court was in charge – Billy had killed him. It had been the first time he killed, and wouldn’t be the last.

Courtless were rare, Billy had never met someone else like him. Born unmarked and free of any loyalty. Or as free as he could be when whenever someone noticed his lack of a mark would send him a judgemental look before calculating how best they could use him to their advantage. There was always a bounty to collect for anyone reporting someone born outside of a court. Or they could have done what Billy’s guardian had done, raise him, train him, all while waiting for the best offer.

A useful errand boy for sale; when the errands in question were thievery, robbery and assassinations. After all he could never be traced back to a specific court when caught and inevitably executed, if he didn’t agree to be marked by the court that caught him. Usually anyone born outside of a court would be found quickly enough and brought to the king or queen of the nearest court where they would be put into service to them and them only, sometimes they would be marked; other times left unmarked to do the royals dirty deeds for them.

Billy’s guardian had found him when Billy was three, he had given him the name William and raised him, trained him. The story of how he had found Billy changed every time he told it, and as such, Billy didn’t know the truth. He had no memory of his parents, all he knew was that they had to have been Courtless, making sure their son would be Courtless as well.

And then when he had turned 13 his guardian came to him telling him that he had been given an offer for Billy, which he couldn’t walk away from. So Billy had killed him and ran away. He reassured himself that his guardian would have been disappointed had he not done so; he had been trained well in self-preservation and it went against all his training to obediently be led into servitude.

There were many things about Billy’s world he had been able to tell Goody about, but his own life, this first part of his history, it was something he had difficulties revealing, even to Goody. Especially the part that came next.

**~*~**

In the morning after the werewolf, Billy gave the map a cursory glance. Goody had given him the map, apparently under the impression that Billy had a destination in mind, Billy hadn’t wanted to dissuade him of that idea, and so was continuing to at least pretend to know where they were going so as to not admit that he didn’t care, and it was Apple calling the shots in regards to their destination. Billy’s horse had been heading steadily westward ever since Billy found her and so they continued; she was a special horse and Billy didn’t think they could change destination even if he wanted to.

There was also Goody to consider and Billy wanted him to stick around, he figured as long as they travelled along the breach Goody would continue – drawn to the breach like a magnet of curiosity that seemed continually unsated even after six months – so it was just fortunate that Apple too wanted to follow the breach.

**~*~**

“Well this is a mess,” Goody said entering the barn again after sending off the farmer to calm down from his hysterics and shreeching about, _“abominations”,_ and _“affronts to god”_.

“I don’t know what you mean,” Billy said, lying on the ground, seven kittens with various number of heads, anything from a perfectly reasonable one head to one with _four_ heads, and Goody had no idea how that many heads had fit inside one cat mom – said calico cat mom was curled up on the ground, presumably exhausted from trying to care for the babies and happy to let Billy act like a playground and babysitter – Goody was momentarily distracted by the happy smile on Billy’s face, and how soft and relaxed he looked there underneath all the kittens.

“That one has four heads, how do they even fit on one body?” Goody pointed out. “That is way too many heads.”

“You think two heads is too many,” Billy pointed out and lifted up a black kitten with two heads holding it towards Goody – he wondered briefly what the regular one-headed tomcat that was the father looked like – and saying “How can you not think this one is adorable?”

Gone was the fierce dangerous Billy, who Goody had been travelling with for months, transformed by a litter of kittens that should by all rights not exist.

“I didn’t think they would be able to breed with the local cats,” Goody said instead.

“I do have to admit it is rather unexpected.”

“Thank you for finally showing some concern,” Goody said. “We really should leave now, with the cats, before the farmer regains his wits and returns with a shotgun.”

Billy sat up abruptly the kittens tumbling down into his lap with loud mewling protests.

“He wouldn’t dare,” Billy growled. His face once more stony and with an added look of murder, and Goody would mourn the loss of that relaxed softness later, right now they had more pressing issues, the least of which was preventing the homocide which would inevitably take place if the kittens came to any harm from the farmer.

They gathered up the kittens in a box, placing the mother with them, and carried it out through the back door. Billy’s horse came when he whistled as usual – there was something weird about that horse which Goody had not quite been able to put his finger on – and fortunately Goody’s own horse, Mallory-Jane, had learned to go wherever Billy’s horse went.

Goody got up in the saddle and Billy lifted the box so that Goody could balance it in front of him, with both hands occupied with the box it was a really good thing Mallory-Jane would follow Apple wherever she went.

They couldn’t ride faster than a walking pace since Goody kept having to gently coax the kittens from climbing out of the box. Thankfully it seemed like the farmer was content in letting them leave, and they could make their way towards the nearby breach between realities without problems.

**~*~**

The day after Goody met Billy he had asked him: “You can heal–” “minor wounds only, nothing major.” “And start fires. What else can you do?” and Billy’s answer had been: _“You’ll just have to tag along and find out as we travel.”_

In the beginning Goody had wondered if Billy could somehow sense when and where something came through the breach, but as the number of times they were late to the scene grew he started to doubt Billy could tell.

But there were still times they arrived just in time. Especially when the breach had started to run along the already existing trail.

“You think people knew?” Goody mused. “That there was something else here and that’s why they decided to travel in this part.”

“I think this trail must be older than the breach??” Billy asked, his eyes were going back and forth between looking forward and to the breach, Goody couldn’t see it, not with the sun high in the sky; it was easier to catch a glimpse early in the morning, or in the evening dusk, when the breach would glint and shimmer in the air.

Goody was going to point out that he didn’t know how old the breach was. Nor did he know how old the trail was. But he spotted something in front of them.

“Is that bush trying to enter the breach?” Goody asked and pointed ahead of them.

“Or exiting it,” Billy mumbled.

They started trotting forward. There was no wind to speak of, not even a slight breeze to explain why the bush was moving, it looked like it was straining forward, the front part of it stretching and then being pushed back once more. If Goody squinted, the front of the bush almost looked like a dog’s head seen in profile, open maw where the leaves and sticks left a gap; a leaf standing straight up on what would be the head in that case, looking a little like an ear; the head swinging back and forth on a long neck; but the rest of it was just a shapeless mess of branches and dark green leaves.

Goody and Billy came to a halt a few feet away from it, and as they did the part of the bush that Goody had thought of as a head swiveled towards them, it looked even more like a dog up close. Two indentations in its head, gaping black voids for eyes; two twigs sticking up forming ears; the branches making up its jaw split open wider showing off its imitation mouth, and how it was filled with thorns, not rows of thorns like teeth, but instead there was large thorns clumped together at the bottom and top of its jaw. The head jerked forward and was pulled back again as if it had an invisible collar around its neck that was holding it back.

“What is that?” Goody asked, voice not as steady as he wished it would be.

“Not from my world,” Billy protested and jumped down on the ground, Goody was a bit hesitant about dismounting.

“Where else would it come from?” Goody asked. “It doesn’t belong here.”

“Magic gone wrong then,” BIlly said.

“You say that so flippantly.” Goody said landing on the ground. “How anyone manages to survive to adulthood in your world is beyond me.”

“And is it any easier here?” Billy asked, which brought Goody up to a stop for a moment. Billy took a step forward towards the creature; and Goody grabbed his arm stopping him.

“What are you doing?”

“I’m going to burn it up before it escapes.”

“Burn it?”

“If it is magic gone bad it’s better to destroy it. Don’t want a repeat of the landshark debacle, especially not here. They bred like bunnies. And there is no knowing how this one will reproduce.”

“Land shark?”

“Some idiot decided it would be a fun idea to conjure air-breathing sharks with legs.”

Goody looked at BIlly and saw him grinning.

“Are… Are you making this up?”

“Maybe.” Still grinning and Goody let go of him, feeling his own corners of his mouth twitch in amusement.

“You think it’ll be aggressive?” Goody asked as they walked forward. At the same time the creature lunged towards them opening and closing its jaw, making no noise but Goody could imagine it would be growling if it had been able to.

“Never mind.”

Sparks flew from Billy’s hands, Goody was never going to stop being fascinated by the sight. But instead of setting the creature a blaze the flames simply bounced against the leaves and twigs before going out.

The creature seemed to lunge again and Goody wasn’t sure if he imagined it or not, but it looked like it was getting further out of the breach.

“Hm.” Billy mumbled, looking around and picking up two branches from the ground. “These should be good enough I guess. He sat down on the ground, tearing two strips from his shirt and wrapping them around one end of each stick.

“Hand me your flask.”

“I think I know what you are going to do, and I don’t think I want to,” Goody said. Billy gave him a deeply unimpressed look. “You,” Goody started as he reached into his pocket, “are lucky they only had the cheap stuff in the last town.” He handed over the flask to Billy who took it without so much as a thank you, but Goody hadn’t expected one. Billy poured some on rudimentary torches, before getting up again; he handed the flask back to Goody and then set fire to the two torches handing one to Goody.

“You take one side, I’ll take the other. If it still doesn’t get lit on fire with these I will distract it and you try pushing it back inside.”

Holding out the torch in front of him Goody walked side by side with Billy towards the creature.

“It’s not sentient is it?” Goody asked. He could see Billy shooting him a quick look from the corner of his eye.

“Doubt it even has a brain,” Billy said. “It’s just animated leaves and twigs.”

With that in mind Goody took the left side of the creature. The head swiveled back and forth between them, and Goody thought he could hear snarling, but he suspected he was just imagining it.

“Do it,” Billy said, and Goody thrust the burning torch against the green leaves on the side of the creature. But even though he held the flame against it nothing was happening.

The bush creature rustled and a little bit more of it slid through the opening.

“I think it’s actually much larger,” Billy mumbled staring at the breach, Goody looked there as well and in the white light thought he could make out a tall and wide dark shape.

“Hand me your torch,” Billy said.

He handed it over across the creature’s back. Its head turning towards Billy.

Goody was a bit more hesitant about touching the creature, it looked like just twigs and leaves, but it was also something else, something unknown, and he remembered the feeling of the owl that had followed him. The nausea; the crawling unpleasantness underneath his skin.

Billy shoved the two torches into the thing’s face and it lifted its head mouth gaping open at a wide angle.

Goody grabbed a leafy branch on its side, his other arm going around its front underneath the long neck and he pushed. At first it really did feel just like holding onto a bush, leaves and twigs nothing strange about it, but then a tingling started in his fingers. He pushed harder, boots digging into the earth, it felt like trying to move a large boulder or, or more accurately perhaps, as if he was trying to uproot a bush, where its roots had plunged deep into the ground unwilling to be moved.

He leaned back and threw himself forward again with all his strength. This time it was pushed back a little bit. The thing’s head swung towards Goody and he jumped back just in time. Billy waved the torches and shouted something.

The thing, mouth wide open struck towards Billy, more like a snake than a dog now. Billy thrust one of the torches into the open mouth. The fire so far hadn’t done much to it, but now it recoiled. Goody took his chance and shoved his shoulder into the thing before resuming his previous hold and kept pushing, it was starting to slide backwards.

Goody’s palms were tingling now, but he gritted his teeth and held on, pushing and pushing. His boots digging into the soft ground under him.

“Keep going!” Billy shouted.

Goody wanted to shout something snappy back at him, but he was too preoccupied. He felt sweat beading on his forehead. Shoulders and arms were straining from the pressure. Looking up, he noticed that he was getting closer to the breach. White light pulsed in front of him, making him feel almost dizzy, flecks of light danced in front of his eyes.

He had to move his grip when his fingertips almost came in contact with the breach.

_They were so close now._

His attention was ripped away from the breach when pain shot through his body from his arm. He couldn’t help the pained exclamation bursting out of his mouth.

Turning his head he saw the thing’s jaw clamped down on his arm. In just his shirt sleeves without a jacket, the thin material was no defense against the thorns in the thing’s mouth, and they were digging deep into his flesh. Blood was already staining the shirt.

“Goody!” Billy shouted. He smacked the thing across the head with the torch, but it didn’t let go.

“Just help push it!” Goody managed to grit out. His teeth clenched against the pain radiating through him. He was losing strength, but it was so close now.

Billy started pushing as well, and it started sliding more and more towards the breach, until they had to let go of it, at the risk of being sucked in. Only its neck was still sticking out, jaws still clamped down on Goody’s arm. His arm was sticky and wet with all the blood. and He was starting to feel dizzy.

He could only watch, as Billy grabbed the thing’s jaw with both hands and with superhuman strength wrenched its jaws apart, the sound of twigs breaking was loud in the silence.

Goody sank to the ground, panting and cradling his arm to his chest.

He blacked out for a bit, not sure how long, but he was still sitting up when he came back to awareness to the feeling of fingers softly pressing against his sweaty clammy cheek. When he looked up along the hand and arm the fingers belonged to he saw Billy standing above him worry and concern written clear on his face in the way his eyes were wide, brows drawn together and lips a tight thin line.

Goody wanted to smile at him; wanted to tell him something along the lines of, _“you do care”,_ but he couldn’t figure out how to make his mouth move in the right way, not with the waves of pain radiating through him.

Billy’s hand cupped his cheek and Goody wanted to lean into the unexpectedly gentle touch, wanted to revel in it and how it almost distracted him; while Billy crouched down on the ground.

“Let me?” he asked, and Goody nodded. Billy’s fingers brushed his cheek briefly as he moved his hand away, to put both hands on Goody’s injured arm. A soft blue light emanated from his hands, enveloping them completely as he held them an inch above the wound. Head tilted down, a focused expression, brows still drawn together, mouth slightly open, as he took long slow breaths, not blinking.

The pain was the first thing to go away and as the tension and waves of pain abated Goody started to breathe easier, his whole body relaxed.

“This is the second time I am healing you,” Billy said, while Goody’s skin started to knit itself together again, closing the wound.

“You are a dangerous man to be around, Billy Rocks,” Goody said before he could stop himself and he saw Billy tensing up, expression shuttering. “But I wouldn’t have it any other way,” Goody added. “I wouldn’t trade _this_,” meaning Billy’s company, but he knew it could be interpreted as what they were doing together, and he was more sure about that being okay rather than the truth of it. _“For anything.”_

He watched Billy swallowing hard, his adam’s apple bobbing. He removed his hand, the wound healed, and the light around his hands disappeared with the snap of his fingers.

“Thank you.” Goody said.

“Don’t,” Billy started, head down and he began to rise, when Goody grabbed his wrist holding him there. Billy looked up at him slowly.

“I mean it,” Goody said, “This is where I want to be.”

He let go of Billy’s hand, ‘Billy blinked down at for a second before looking back into Goody’s eyes. “Right here, danger and all. Because I know you’ve got my back.” He smiled. “And you can trust me to have your back.”

He looked into Billy’s eyes, his face unreadable, and he couldn’t even begin to imagine what Billy was thinking. He watched and heard the deep breath Billy took before getting to his feet, looking down at Goody and putting a hand on Goody’s shoulder.

“Come on,” Billy murmured. “Let’s go.”

Goody got up on his feet, in a graceful way and not at all scrambling.

“Alright, let’s go,” Goody said slinging an arm around Billy’s shoulders. “Partner.”

Billy snorted but Goody could see a hint of a smile hiding in the corner of his mouth twitching up.

“Fine,” Billy said, and Goody grinned. He would take what he could get; he was used to that.

**~*~**

Billy kept wondering the following days, every morning when he woke up on his back, would he turn on his side and this be the morning he wouldn’t see Goody’s bedroll? But every morning when he turned over he would see Goody peacefully sleeping only a few feet away; and Billy would lie there on his side and just watch Goody, the early morning light falling on his cheeks, nose, and lips – in the mornings when his otherwise clean shaven face would have hints of stubble. Goody would shave himself in the morning, or sometimes let be, on the days he rode off to get more supplies from a nearby town, and a visit to the barber while he was there. Blankets usually tangled in his legs and feet rather than draped over him, and the soft comforting noise of every breath, chest rising and falling softly in relaxed sleep. Billy’s heart clenched every time with relief that Goody was still there, hadn’t decided in the night that Billy was just too much; to difficult. A lifetime of being abandoned and betrayed had put its marks on him, and he couldn’t get enough of all the ways Goody continued to surprise him.

He hadn’t expected to grow attached to him, and now all Billy wanted was to hold on to him; but at the same time he couldn’t help waiting for the other shoe to drop, because surely it would. His wasn’t a life where he was given the things he wanted, much less allowed to keep them.

As Goody started to move around, making soft little noises and stretching out his whole body Billy let his eyes linger for a moment longer before getting up to poke life into their fire. He was fully focused on preparing for breakfast when Goody sat up, smacking his lips and reaching for the water Billy held out to him.

They had developed a routine quickly, of how to move around each other, each doing their share of tasks in the morning. Both working in silence in the beginning, Goody was usually talkative but in the mornings he always seemed to need extra time to shed the dreams of the night, before he could properly face the day.

Once breakfast had been consumed Goody would usually be back to talking about everything and anything that crossed his mind, eyes crinkling and mouth smiling as he tried to make Billy laugh; a lot of the time Goody did make Billy laugh. Goody was the most disarming man Billy had ever met, and if he wasn’t careful he suspected Goody could have convinced him to do anything, and Billy would gladly agree.

Once they were back on the trail Billy would join in the conversation more easily; he had rebuilt some of the armour that had been left down during sleep and briefly forgotten about in the early morning light, when Goody’s eyes were even bluer than normal, and so very soft when they looked at Billy, making it harder to protect himself, much less be able to converse when his heart clenched; in the mornings Billy’s heart was once again soft and fragile in the presence of Goody.

But on the trail as the sun continued to rise in the wide blue sky, there was banter and comments thrown back and forth, Billy making Goody laugh, mouth wide and face bright as he threw his head back letting out a delighted laugh over something Billy said. Billy enjoyed making the other man laugh like that, wanted that warm feeling in the pit of his stomach, a pleased little curl of a flame flickering in his chest, growing ever hotter and larger.

**~*~**

Goody was tending to the fire that evening as they made camp. They were running low on supplies and he was going to have to take a look at the map to see how far until the next town; though honestly the map’s age made it unreliable about such things most of the time. Towns popped up all over the place almost as soon as someone found an ore of gold or silver in the mountains – not far from the trail they were following – and they were abandoned just as quickly once the mountain ran dry.

He looked up at Billy as he came closer. Walking with purpose in his step, the golden rays of the sun highlighting the bridge of his nose, his sharp cheekbones; and Goody did not sigh wistfully. Billy possessed the kind of beauty sonnets should be written about; whole chapters of verse dedicated to praising the way Billy looked, the way he moved, how disarming and breathtaking his smiles were; and how much it warmed Goody’s heart whenever he shared one of his smaller, amused smiles with Goody, when they shared a comment or a joke that was just for them.

“Goody.”

“Huh?” Goody was pulled from his musings.

“I said, I think one of the shoes on Mal’s back hooves is coming loose.”

“How many times do I have to remind you, her name is Mallory-Jane,” Goody grumbled and got to his feet.

“Mal suits her more,” Billy said with a shrug.

“I am not calling her that,” Goody said as he stopped next to Mallory-Jane petting her on the back.

“You of all people should know the importance of a good nickname, and yet you refuse to give her one.”

“Mallory-Jane is a lady,” Goody said and lifted her leg to check her shoe. At the same time Mallory-Jane lifted her tail slightly and let out a fart.

“Very ladylike,” Billy said. Goody glared at him, but it held no heat as the sight of Billy hiding a smile behind a hand was too good of a sight, and Goody had to fight back a smile of his own.

“Well, it is loose as you say,” Goody said, dropping the hoof back to the ground and stepping away from her after patting her on her flank.

“I’ll get her new shoes in town, I have to get supplies soon anyway.” He looked at Billy. “You need anything? Maybe you want to come with me into town for a change.”

Billy usually left anything regarding supplies to Goody, choosing to take the long way around any town rather than ride through it. Though sometimes he would accompany Goody.

“I’ll leave that to you,” Billy said.

Goody nodded and took another look at Billy who was gazing out over the plains around them. He truly was beautiful, and Goody’s heart ached with want. All he wanted was to reach out, brush his fingers against Billy’s cheek, tuck his hair back behind his ears, touch him. But he held back, there was too much left unsaid yet, too much to risk losing. Instead he walked back to the fire, along with Billy behind him.

**~*~**

It was barely dawn when Billy woke up, the world grey and colors dulled, the fire burned down to embers and the sun hesitating at the horizon. Billy felt similarly hesitant about being awake, he usually slept a little bit longer and wasn’t quite sure why he’d woken up now, and so was considering falling back asleep, but his stomach was churning and there was something in the air; something hinting that not everything was as it should be; he couldn’t shake the thought that something was wrong.

Billy turned over on his side, eyes falling on Goody’s empty bedroll – his _empty_ bedroll. Billy sat up and looked around, his heart suddenly beating a beat faster. Goody’s horse was still tied up next to Billy’s, and so he tried to tell himself that Goody had probably just wandered off to relieve himself. But Billy’s stomach continued to churn.

He grabbed his knife belt and buckled it before he started walking towards the breach. _Had they made camp too close to it?_ He thought as he walked.

Billy didn’t have to walk far before he saw two silhouettes in the distance, one kneeling on the ground and the other towering over him. Billy started running and came to a skidding stop once he reached them. He shouted an angry “hey!” and pulled a knife.

The breach was glowing like the sun behind the two men.

Goody was kneeling on the ground face lifted and a man was holding his palm against Goody’s forehead. The man in question was tall, and pale. Blond hair tied up in a queue, and fringe hanging down to his eyebrows. He wore clothes in white, gold and different shades of green. They looked new showing not the slightest wear or rip and tear; but the cut of the outfit looked as if it had been brand new a century earlier; and definitely belonged to a nobleman on a hunt in the woods, not out here among the sand and cacti and not a single soul for miles.he coat and waistcoat were embroidered with intricate patterns in gold, nothing at all like the rough and ready clothes of the common people; but the man was missing a cravat and his shirt was slightly unbuttoned.

When the man turned his head and stared at Billy, the first thing he noticed were the pitch black eyes, and the second was that they weren’t completely black; tiny pinpricks of white dotted his eyes like the stars in the night sky; so many stars swirling and moving in the man’s black eyes and Billy gasped pulled up short by shock. He’d only heard about them, never met one.

He was able to look away from the man’s eyes and look down. The man’s shirt unbuttoned enough to show the hint of a mark tattooed on his collarbone, but it wasn’t clear enough for Billy to work out which court he belonged to; If he even belonged to one.

Pulling himself together Billy shouted: “Let go of him!”

He started advancing with his heart racing. The stranger laughed and spun around diving through the breach. Billy was almost about to run after him no matter how ill-advised that would be. But he saw Goody crumple to the ground, and instead he sheathed his knife again and ran to Goody’s side.

Billy lifted his upper body, cradling him in his arms as Goody slowly opened his eyes, looking around himself confused, and Billy couldn’t help the relieved smile.

“Wh–Wha?” Goody mumbled confused. “Where? What happened?”

A simple question but Billy was torn about the answer. Because Billy could tell him what actually happened, even though the why it happened was still clouded in mystery even to himself. He had no idea what anyone from the other side could be interested in about Goody. But he could make a guess, and Goody would probably ask him to make a guess and Billy couldn’t, _he couldn’t tell him_, couldn’t risk that the truth would make Goody walk away. So a lie it would have to be.

“You sleepwalked,” Billy said. Feeling guilty about lying, but for the time being it seemed the safer option. Hopefully the stranger wouldn’t return, and Billy wouldn’t have reason to lie even more.

**~*~**

Because the breach took them elsewhere they didn’t often stop in the few towns scattered across the territories, but this time however the breach went straight through the little mining town’s main street.

“Main street seems rather unnecessary when there are no other streets,” Billy said as they entered the town.

“The breach going straight through town,” Goody mumbled more focused on that than Billy’s comment, “that can’t be good.” He glanced at Billy and caught him looking away from Goody. He had caught Billy watching him a couple of times over the past few days, a look of scrutiny on his face and Goody couldn’t understand it, and he was hesitant about asking about it.

“Let’s stop here for the night. We could use a good night’s sleep in a bed for a change.”

Billy only made a noise, but by now Goody knew what his noises of agreement sounded like – way less harsh than his disagreeing noises – so he steered them towards the nearest saloon.

They had barely entered, Goody walking in first, when three men surrounded Billy.

“Don’t need your business–”

“What seems to be the problem?” Goody asked turning around, looking at three men and seeing one of them recognize him, tugging at the obvious leader’s sleeve, which the man ignored.

“And who are you?”

“Name’s Goodnight Robicheaux,” said almost nonchalant, and he saw the recognition on the other two’s faces as well. He ignored their stammered apologies as they stepped out of the way and Goody grabbed Billy by the shoulder and steered him towards the counter instead.

The barkeep had been watching, one hand on the counter and the other underneath it, waiting just in case. There was something tense about most of the guests Goody noted, everyone watching them outright and not in little sideways glances either.

“That name of yours,” Billy said in a low voice.

“Carries a heavy reputation.” Goody said; Billy simply nodded and Goody wished he knew what Billy was thinking, but he also didn’t want to ask.

“Please excuse them,” the barkeep said when they reached the counter.Goody didn’t really have any intention of forgiving them, but he also didn’t want to start anything and just waved it off.

“We’re not getting a lot of visitors lately,” the barkeep continued. “Rumours must have spread.”

“Rumours?” Billy asked. The look on the barkeeps face wasn’t hostile, but there definitely was something restrained – suspicion; wariness – and if Billy noticed it – which he most likely did – he pretended to ignore it.

“It’s nothing,” another man said seated at the counter. The barkeep turned to him and gave him an annoyed look.

“Four dead bodies isn’t what I would call nothing, Cal.”

“People die in mines,” the man, Cal, said.

“Not this way,” the barkeep protested.

“Gil, here is probably half the reason the rumours _are_ spreading,” Cal said with a shrug. “Telling anyone who come in here, and as you can understand everyone traveling past come in here, about the bodies.”

Goody exchanged a look with Billy.

“Because they were husks,” Gil said. “Nothing left of them but skin and bone. Their insides were gone and skin was all wrinkly like raisins, and completely yellow.”

The other man snorted derisively and got up with his drink to walk over to a table where a card game was going on. Goody glanced at Billy again and saw a small frown between his brows as he looked down at the counter top.

“Strange things are happening up at the mine, and some thing is going on here in town as well.”

“And here we were looking for a room for the night,” Goody said.

“Well, we have lots of rooms, but–”

“We’ll pay for one,” Billy said. Staring the man in the eyes when he opened his eyes. “We’re not scared of some ghost stories.”

**~*~**

“You know what it is?” Goody asked later in the room they’d paid for. They had had a few drinks downstairs and then gone up to the room.

“I have a suspicion,” Billy said. “There’s a…” he cocked his head to the side. “We call it wraith. There are two kinds, they balance each other out. These people are probably dealing with a chaos wraith. At least I hope so, sometimes the other kind goes mad and those are almost impossible to fight.”

“Chaos wraith sounds bad enough,” Goody said, and wondered what exactly his life had turned into that he had the words _‘chaos wraith’_ so casually in his mouth as if it was something natural.

“They are,” Billy said. “They are dangerous and hard to fight, but they can be fought, because they have a body. The tricky part is to make them inhabit that body and stay in it.”

“And how do we do that?”

Billy pulled two knives from his belt, removing the covering from the hilt which had looked exactly the same as the other knives’ hilts, but without it Goody saw that the hilt was a light greenish color, and when Billy pulled off the sheath on the blade it turned out that the whole knife was made out of the same greenish material.

“Is that… Jade?” Goody asked and Billy nodded. “I thought all of the knives looked the same.”

“They’re not,” Billy said. “I have a few special ones, but to make sure nobody tries to take them they all look the same on the outside.”

“What if you use the wrong one if you’re in a hurry?” Goody asked, curious now and reached out before he could stop himself, he thought Billy would deny him, but instead he handed one of the knives to Goody, hilt first, Goody took it and looked at it closer.

“I don’t.”

“And this will help us tomorrow?”

Billy nodded, and said: “One of us will have to stab an invisible creature that has the strength of ten men and can suck out all of your essence if it gets its claws in you. But as long as the knife stays in it will be visible and I can shoot it.”

“Oh, is that all,” Goody commented.

He held out the knife to Billy again, but he shook his head.

“You’ll need it tomorrow. Don’t lose it.”

“So we’re not going right now?”

“Early tomorrow at dawn will be best. If we leave now we might draw attention to us.” He looked out the window. “Besides, it’ll be nigh on impossible to fight it in darkness.”

**~*~**

“I dreamt of the most peculiar place,” Goody said after they’d finished climbing through their window to leave their room to make sure no one saw them, and they started walking up the gravel road towards the mine in the early dawn light; the sun was only just starting to rise.

“I was in a field of the greenest grass I’ve ever seen,” Goody said, his voice deep and still a little sleep rough. He wasn’t a morning person, not the way Billy seemed to be ready to get going as soon as he woke up.

“That doesn’t sound very strange,” Billy said.

“No, the peculiar thing was the sky. It was purple.” It had been so strange seeing the pale purple sky and white wisps of clouds drifting across it, it had looked like a painting of some fantastical and unreal place. He hefted his rifle, slung over one shoulder until he found a more comfortable spot to carry it.

“Was it–”

“No, I know what you’re going to say, and no,” Goody interrupted right away. “The sun was high in the sky, besides it wasn’t streaks of purple along with other colors like it can get at sunset. No the whole sky was just this solid pale purple color.”

He glanced at Billy who was looking forward towards where they were walking, mouth a thin line, a small frown on his face; but he looked good in the early light of the sun, and for a moment Goody was distracted from the memory of his dream.

“I walked for a long time across the field,” Goody continued. “And then I reached this circle of tall bushes.” He frowned. “Or trees, I am not sure, but purple flowers grew on them and there was the sweetest loveliest smell in the air.”

Goody thought he saw a strange look go over Billy’s face, but it was gone so quickly he must have imagined it. And instead he continued to talk about about the dream.

“I had to walk around a bit to find an opening in the bushes and when I did, I saw the bushes surrounded this small house and there were all these beehives in front of the house, and the house looked like it was made out of beeswax. And then you woke me up before I could knock on the door.”

Next to him BIlly exhaled and said:

“Dreams are strange,” Billy said sounding a little dismissive. “I don’t put much stock into finding meaning in them.”

“I suppose you wouldn’t,” Goody said and Billy looked over at him questioning. “If you are from a place where the fantastical and impossible is commonplace then I suppose dreams wouldn’t be very impressive.”

Billy was looking at him and for a moment looked like he was about to reply to that comment, but instead he turned forward and said: “We’re here.”

In front of them they had the opening to the mine, a ramshackle shed standing outside, with tools scattered around it. A creek was flowing past to the side and abandoned gold pans on the pebbled bank near the water.

“You’ve got the knife?” Billy asked. Goody felt for the knife hanging from his belt loop and nodded.

They parted there at the end of the path, taking one side each to walk towards the opening of the cave. It had been the plan Billy suggested the night before; let the wraith come to one of them because there’s no other way to find it.

So Goody walked slowly, boots crunching on gravel and never taking his eyes off of Billy and the area right behind him, and Billy watching Goody with the same intensity. Billy had told him that the wraith would turn into smoke first before solidifying for the attack.

Behind him all Goody could hear was the creek. It had gotten brighter around them as the sun was properly rising.

“I know you said it would be near impossible to hunt these in the dark,” Goody said conversationally. “And I don’t really know why I feel like this, perhaps its that latent romanticist buried deep inside of me, but wraith hunting seems like a night time activity.”

“How is that romantic?” Billy asked, sounding genuinely confused.

“It’s got nothing to do with romance,” Goody said. “It’s actually more of a—”

“Goody look out!”

Goody spun around; behind him a cloud of black smoke, which didn’t quite look like smoke, it was more like a liquid, as if ink was floating in the air and slowly gathered together in a coherent shape before transforming into a tall creature standing behind him.

It had roughly the shape of a man, but every now and again a hand, a foot, an arm, or a leg would disappear; or become invisible since it didn’t seem to affect the wraith. Its back was crooked like an s, the lower half of its torso jutting out to one side and the upper half to the opposite side. Blonde hair hanging down to the ground, lengths of it matted together. Its white skinned body was naked, its hands had fingers twice the length of normal fingers and even longer, with deep-blue claws for fingernails. Its eyes were unseeing bright balls of white light in eyelid-less eye sockets, and the mouth when it opened it was filled with pointy sharp teeth.

More of the black smoke seemed to hover around the wraith, like a black aura moving like smoke wrapping itself around limbs covering and uncovering parts of it.

Terror gripped Goody in a way it had never gripped him before and he had seen the horror of war, but all of a sudden it paled to the icy cold hand that seemed to have gripped his heart in a squeezing vice .

He was frozen at the spot, unable to move, mouth moving uselessly as no sound passed his lips. He trembled where he stood, unable to follow through with the plan as the grinning monster moved in closer, hands reaching out for Goody.

Suddenly Billy was there, pushing Goody to the side. Goody stumbled away, suddenly feeling his legs again as his knees nearly gave out, but he was able to stay on his feet. He saw Billy swing his knife at the wraith but it disappeared and Billy’s hand and knife simply finished the arc through empty air.

“I’m sorry,” Goody said. “I’m sorry I know I should have–” he should have turned around and stabbed the thing like they had planned. Freezing on the spot was never the plan. “I just froze.”

“It happens,” Billy said. A concerned frown between eyebrows as he looked at Goody. “Are you okay? It didn’t hurt you?”

“Besides a bruised ego I am fine.”

Billy opened his mouth and then went flying with a surprised “oomph”. In his place stood suddenly the wraith, visible for a second, before disappearing. Goody could only watch as Billy flew with his back first into the wall of the shed, making the whole thing shake.

“Billy!”

Goody started running towards Billy and had almost reached him when something hard pushed him in the side and he went down skidding several feet on the gravel and dirt. Scraping up his arm and losing his breath for a moment.

Where Goody had been a second ago the wraith appeared, and in between blinks the wraith had moved to standing over Goody.

Goody reached for the knife, his fingers trembling the first few times he tried to wrap them around the shaft, but finally he managed to pull it out of the sheath and he stabbed the wraith as well as he could from the position, which wasn’t very well at all, from lying on his back, and he only managed to scratch its thigh.

The wraith hissed and stared at Goody. Behind the wraith Goody saw Billy getting up on his feet.

“Goody!”

The wraith distracted by the shout turned half way around. Goody sat up and stabbed the knife deep into the creature’s stomach. A liquid, blood presumably, but it was silver colored, started dripping from the wound. The creature let out a loud noise and turned back to Goody. The wraith grabbed the knife from Goody who in shock from how cold the thing’s hand was let go of the hilt. The wraith pulled out the knife, more blood spurting out. The thing went invisible and reappeared several feet from Goody where it tossed the knife away.

Meanwhile Billy jumped up and floated through the air; flying, he was _flying_, and for a moment Goody just stopped where he had started to crawl towards his knife, because Billy was flying.

“You can fly!”

“Well, technically I am manipulating gravity.”

Billy landed on the ground, sweeping a leg out knocking the wraith over, but it went invisible as soon as it started falling and when Billy tried slashing through the air with his knife the blade met nothing. Billy jumped up in the air floating backwards a few feet.

In the middle of the air above Billy’s head Goody thought he saw black smoke.

“Above you!” Goody shouted.

Billy looked up and just as he did the wraith became visible again, mouth open hands outstretched as it dove towards Billy. Who turned and flew through the air in another direction as the wraith had to pull up or hit the ground. Billy chased after it through the air and soon was engaging it in close hand to hand combat. Stabbing and slashing through the air, spinning around and dodging teeth and claws, all the while his opponent flickered in and out of sight unpredictably.

It looked almost like dancing, more than fighting, Billy gracefully moving through the air like he belonged there as much as he did on the ground. The inky black smoke trailing the wraith wrapping around them both and streaming out behind them as they flew through the air. Goody so captivated by the sight he had forgotten all about his own knife.

“You can fly.”

“Are we still on this?” Billy ducked the clawed hand trying to slash his face open. “Focus!”

Goody shook himself out of his daze and made his way to his knife picking it up and slipping it back into the sheath. He heard a loud thud behind him and he turned around and saw the wraith on the ground behind him, Billy close by diving down and in a move so fast neither the wraith or Goody could keep up with him Billy had managed to drive his knife into the wraith’s side before grabbing hold around the wraith to pin its arms to its sides, looking over the shoulder of the wraith at Goody.

Goody got up on one knee and pulled his rifle from over his shoulder and he took aim. He was famed for his skill with the rifle, it was what had given his name the reputation it now carried. Whether it was moving targets or completely still didn’t matter, and yet in this moment, his fingers wouldn’t move. His breathing, his heart felt like it stopped and all of his muscles locked up, and then the tremors started. From his fingertips through his hands and up his arms.

_What if you hit Billy?_ He thought to himself. _What if the bullet just goes straight through the wraith and pierce through Billy’s stomach? His chest? Would Billy be able to heal himself? Would he even have the time to do so?_

What if questions swirled in his mind, clouding it so he could no longer see clearly.

There were suddenly too many worries and concerns and somewhere in the back of his mind lurked an owl with four eyes, pecking away at the mess of shame and regret and guilt in his mind and heart.

He watched as the wraith broke free from Billy’s hold on it. The wraith darted to the ground, but Goody was still frozen, fingers trembling on the trigger but he couldn’t get them to squeeze it. The dagger was ripped out of its side, more silver colored blood staining the ground, it snarled and hissed going invisible.

Suddenly Goody felt something heavy crash into him and he was thrown across the ground.He rolled around over the gravel digging into him through his clothes and his breathing ragged as he was able to dig his fingers into the ground stopping his movement. Lying on his stomach he saw the rifle on the ground several feel from him.

In a gust of smoke that flew in Goody’s face, stinging in his eyes and making him cough, the wraith appeared in front of him, grinning with too many, too sharp teeth. Goody threw himself forward arms going around the wraith’s waist. It went invisible, but moved too late and Goody wrapped his hands around the wraith’s waist and wrestled it to the ground.

The wraith on its side beneath Goody smelled of death and decay, a smell so deeply ingrained in Goody’s sense memory he almost backed away immediately, and he did retch a little and tried to ignore the smell even though it made him gag. The wraith wriggled and bucked underneath him, throwing him off, but Goody wrapped a hand in long hair as it got up on its knees.

The wraith darted forward getting up on its feet dragging Goody into losing his footing and he fell forward into the back of the wraith, but with the hair wrapped so tightly around his hand he didn’t lose the grip. The wraith hissed and spun around, moving fast enough that Goody was thrown to the side and still behind the wraith. Goody reached desperately for the knife when the wraith started sprinting forward and Goody still without proper footing was dragged along after it. The wraith went invisible, and it was so strange to hold onto something, to have strands of hair digging into his hand and yet he couldn’t see them.

“Hold on!” Billy shouted.

“That is what I am doing!” A little bit of annoyance creeping into his voice. If he could just get a grip on the knife, but moving around like the wraith was doing it was hard to follow through with any movement he started when all of a sudden a sharp turn would shake him around once again and all he ended up doing was flailing around.

Finally through some luck, the wraith moving in a certain way Goody got his hand on the knife and managed to reach around and stab the wraith in its invisible chest, and then it was just a question of hanging onto the wraith, holding the knife in its chest to keep it visible. Out of the corner of his eye he could see Billy drawing his gun and aiming.

The first shot missed as just at that moment the wraith leapt up into the air with Goody dangling from its long hair and unable to control his shout of surprise, and fear. He saw Billy take aim again.

“Don’t shoot now!” Goody shouted.

“Why not?” Billy asked like he genuinely didn’t understand.

“I will fall!”

“I’ll catch you,” Billy shouted, and had he not been aiming Goody suspected he would have shrugged, like it was nothing.

“What? No, wait, I’ll–” Goody protested. He heard the shot as blood splattered all over him. The solid, if invisible, body Goody had been holding turned into wisps of smoke and with a scream Goody started to fall through the air.

Air rushed past him and out of his lungs cutting off his scream. His heart felt like it stopped for a second and then jumped up his throat beating faster than ever before.

And then he stopped falling, strong arms gripping him and he opened his eyes.

Warm brown eyes met his, a soft smile on pretty lips making his heart skip a beat for other reasons and he had to look away. They were still in the air, floating slowly towards the ground, Billy holding Goody in a bridal carry.

“Are you okay?” Billy asked and Goody looked back at him.

“You can fly,” he said instead because he was never going to stop being amazed at it. The concerned frown on Billy’s forehead smoothed out, and amusement glittered in his eyes and played on his lips.

“We’ve been over this.”

“Not enough,” Goody said. It had been six months, and at no point had he known that Billy could fly, he felt a little betrayed by this. Billy set down his feet gently on the ground, but it took another moment, Goody too distracted by Billy’s eyes, before he demanded Billy let go of him.

“Is it dead?” Goody asked and looked around himself. And then looked at himself, his clothes dirty from rolling around on the ground, and there were rips and torn fabric.

“Yes,” Billy said.

“And no body, that’s helpful. Would have been a pain to carry it back to town to throw it into the breach.”

“Yes,” Billy said. Goody turned to him again, catching how Billy’s hand was hovering near Goody’s arm and then quickly dropping when he caught Goody looking at it. “Are you okay?” Billy asked.

Goody nodded and smiled. “You caught me.”

“Of course,” Billy said. “I said I would.” He looked away. “I probably shouldn’t have made you do that though.”

“Hey, I knew what I signed on for,” Goody said. Billy glanced back at him, eyebrow raised.

“Did you really?”

“Okay, maybe not, but I knew by now. And I’m still here aren’t I?”

“That you are,” Billy said slowly, something scrutinizing in his expression which Goody decided to ignore.

“Come on, I want to wash off some of this dirt before we head back into town.

The sun had risen while they’d been fighting the wraith, the morning with all its hustle and bustle would have started by now back in town.

Goody walked over to the creek they had seen earlier. Shedding his jacket, rolling up his sleeves and unbuttoning a few buttons on his shirt. He knelt down with one knee on the ground by the water and dipped his hands in the cold water shivering little at the temperature. He leaned forward cupping his hands in the water and started splashing his face with it until he thought he had gotten rid of all the dust, and silver blood splatter. Cupping his hands once more he brought up water to his mouth and drank. Straightening his back and leaning his head back. Some water trickling down his chin and throat to disappear in rivulets underneath his shirt cooling off the sweat that had gathered during the fighting.

Goody turned back to Billy, opening his eyes and caught him staring, mouth a little open, eyes a little widened. But when Goody looked at him he quickly schooled his features and approached the creek as well.

Goody sat down on a rock while Billy washed his face and drank some water, taking the chance to really look at him in the sunlight glistening in the water droplets on his face and the way it made his lips shine. But the gnawing guilt in his stomach finally caught up, souring his moment.

“I’m sorry,” Goody said.

“What are you apologizing for?” Billy turned to him and Goody looked down at his hands.

“I should have shot it, earlier. I had the chance and I hesitated–”

“You froze.”

“I was thinking about you.” He swallowed. “I was thinking ‘what if I hit you’ and froze.”

Billy didn’t say anything and so Goody had to look up at him again, a complicated expression on his face that Goody couldn’t even begin to figure out.

“Goody,” Billy said, voice gentle of all things.

Goody got up wandered off to pick up his rifle, and the knife. When he had done so and got back to Billy he was still watching him. Goody held out the knife to Billy.

“Here, you should have this back.”

Billy looked at the knife, hilt lying on his open palm and then up into Goody’s face, reaching out with both hands, the hands a little cold and damp from the creak, as he closed Goody’s fingers around the hilt.

“You should keep it,” Billy said. “Think of it as a gift.”

“Billy…” He swallowed hard. “I–”

“Just say thanks,” Billy said, with a small smile and Goody nodded.

“Thank you.” He said, even though he wasn’t sure he had done anything to warrant a gift. He looked down at the knife and mumbled: “We should head back to town.” And Billy nodded. They started walking in silence side by side back to town.

**~*~**

He was back in the field. The grass was taller now, he could run his fingertips through the tops of the grass, it felt like grass, smelled like grass and dirt, everything the same and familiar. The only odd thing was the sky, that soft purple sky above his head.

Goody started walking through the field, knowing perhaps innately where he needed to go. Eventually in the distance he spotted the tall bushes, a meter or so taller than him with large purple flowers. He walked around the hedge of bushes until he reached the opening. The small yard on the inside was filled with beehives, and flowers everywhere, and of course bees flitting back and forth through the air.

The house was small, made out of red bricks and Goody walked up to the door, large and made out of oak, with carvings in it. The handle was a heavy looking iron ring and Goody was reaching out for it when suddenly a hand gripped his wrist, and Goody spun around. Billy was standing behind him, hair wild and loose and Goody was suddenly dragged to the side of the house and pushed up against the wall. Billy pressed up against him, intense eyes looking into Goody’s own, and heat curling in the pit of Goody’s stomach.

Billy leaned closer, their breath mingling, Goody’s lips already tingling. Goody closed his eyes.

When he opened them again he was lying on his bedroll staring up at a very ordinary blue sky.

He sighed. Disappointment a heavy stone in his chest.

**~*~**

“And right as I was about to open the door I woke up. I keep having this strange dream, I wonder if I’ll ever see the inside of the house.”

_Hopefully not_, Billy thought. He kept trying to convince himself that it was a coincidence, but as Goody kept dreaming of it, it was becoming harder and harder for Billy to lie to himself. He looked around them to avoid looking at Goody, he wasn’t sure about his expression at the moment and the last thing he wanted was to explain.

He spotted three riders on a ridge far behind them. They had stopped and were looking around, and Billy, along with a nervous flutter down his spine, couldn’t help wondering if they were looking for someone rather than something.

He suppressed a worried shiver, biting a little at his bottom lip. He shouldn’t be paranoid, but on the other hand it never hurt to be cautious.

“Do you have a destination in mind,” Goody asked suddenly and Billy had to turn back to him. He didn’t really have a destination. His destination should be as far away from the breach as possible, but he wasn’t sure Goody would follow him. There were other people he didn’t want following him, and they’d probably have a harder time if he didn’t follow the breach, but he wanted Goody to follow him.

“Because if we keep heading west, we’re eventually going to reach the ocean,” Goody said.

“I’ve never seen the ocean,” Billy said. “Perhaps the ocean is my destination.” It was a better answer than saying that they were going where Apple was taking them. Goody had accepted a lot of things strange and impossible, but Billy didn’t want to test him by saying that the horse had a mission and all they were doing was tagging along on Apple’s mission.

“Well, its as good a destination as any. We’ve still got quite a long way to go though.”

“I don’t mind,” Billy said, and shot a smile at Goody. He really didn’t mind it. Not when he had Goody along.

**~*~**

Billy had tried to stay awake, he really had, but after succeeding for a couple of days in a row, he simply was too exhausted and fell asleep leaning against a rock. What woke him up was his horse bumping her head into Billy’s very insistently. Billy opened bleary eyes and looked around him, immediately noticing that Goody’s bedroll was empty. Billy pulled out his gun and looked back at his horse, Apple took a few steps in a direction away from their camp.

Billy started running.

The sun was slowly rising on the horizon, coloring the sand of the desert a reddish color. A long distance away he saw the same sight as last time. Goody kneeling and a man, possibly the same man because he too had blond hair and was dressed the same, standing over him, palm on Goody’s forehead.

This time Billy skidded to a halt and lifted his gun, firing and hitting the stranger in the head with a bullet. The stranger barely reacted, head snapping to the side and then straightened it. The stranger turned around laying his dark, star filled eyes on Billy and laughed. A shiver of fear went down Billy’s spine.

“You,” the stranger said. Striding a little closer to Billy who shot him in the chest, it had no effect. “You don’t know it yet.”

“Don’t know what?” Billy asked, wondering if he should fire the gun again, maybe third time really was the charm.

“We saw you, in the stars.”

“And what was I doing in the stars?” Billy asked.

“Bringing us all to destruction.”

Billy scoffed.

“I think your stars have me mistaken for someone else,” Billy said. Lifting his gun again. “Now leave us alone.” He fired the bullet hitting the stranger in his open mouth.

The man recoiled, but then bent forward coughing and retching and when he straightened he held the bullet in the palm of his hand towards Billy.

Billy glowered at him. The man smirked and dropped the bullet on the ground before turning around and disappearing through the breach.

Billy rushed forward to steady Goody and help him back, telling him once again he had sleep walked, but this time the guilt about lying was distracted by thoughts of the words he’d been told. Obviously it had to be nonsense, Billy wasn’t in a position to bring anything, much less destruction to everyone. What did the stars know about what went on down on earth; either earth?

Later when they were back on their horses Billy said: “We should stop by a town, get a room tonight.”

Goody looked at him surprised, and Billy knew it was the first time he had suggested it, he had always insisted on staying out of the towns, but if a door with a lock would keep Goody safe, then that was definitely the better option.

He looked over at Goody, guilt was beginning to gnaw on him again. He should have told him, he should tell him, but he wasn’t sure what was going on, wouldn’t be able to answer any questions because he himself didn’t know. Had no idea what they wanted with Goody, with him, what were they doing. Why was Goody dreaming of a place familiar to Billy?

**~*~**

Billy had preferred staying as far away from the towns as possible, but he was too concerned about Goody, too concerned about not knowing what was going on; and he supposed getting used to the towns in this world couldn’t hurt, if he was planning on staying. Still, he was heading to the stables in the morning at a rather brisk pace to get the horses ready while Goody packed up their things; and Billy was going to meet up with Goody outside the boarding house with the horses.

He opened the door to the livery, and stepped inside. As he stepped inside something hit his head and he stumbled to the side.

Dazed he turned around and saw two men, one holding a broken leg of a chair, and the other holding a gun aimed at Billy. A third man stepped out of the shadows, also with a gun aimed at Billy. The lanterns illuminating the stable reflecting and glinting on the gun barrels, as well as the thick iron ring they all wore on one finger.

“So you thought you could hide here in another world,” the second man holding a gun said. They were in their shirtsleeves and brown trousers, jackets and hats gathered in a pile not far from where they were standing.

“But Jack,” the first guy with the gun whined, lowering his gun and turning to the gunman apparently named Jack. “You said I would get to say that.”

“You can say the next thing, John,” Jack said and lowered his gun when he looked at his compatriot.

Amateurs, Billy thought. It would be a cold day in hell before he was captured by amateurs.

John started to turn towards Billy, opening his mouth and lifting his gun again. Before he could finish his movement, Billy punched him in the throat and quickly grabbed the revolver out of suddenly lax fingers.

Billy sidestepped the now unarmed gunman and slithered past between him and the door, and into an empty stall. From there he vaulted over the wall into an occupied stall. He found himself face to face with Goody’s horse.

Goody would never forgive Billy if any harm befell his precious Mal and so he ran out of the stall. The three would-be bounty hunters stood in a group in front of the doors and stared at him.

“Did my wanted poster specify if it was dead or alive?” Billy asked, hip cocked, and twirled John’s gun around a finger. He needed to get this over with quickly, or Goody would come investigate what was taking Billy so long, and he did not want Goody to come barging in on this.

“Alive,” Jack said. “Though you know they are close to a way around that.”

Billy repressed a shudder, focusing instead on the implication, he should have paid more attention to the Chimera Court’s closest allies, and what they were in on.

“Well, as you say, they are only close. So how about putting our guns down?” Billy said, and then gave them a look. “Well, your gun,” he said nodding to Jack. “I’ve already got this one.”

John took a step forward and snarled. Billy quickly pointed the man’s own gun at him.

“It would be easier if you just come along with us,” the third man finally spoke. Billy raised an eyebrow.

“Really? You think that’s going to work?” Billy asked.

“Ezekiel,” Jack said, he had to be the leader of this little group, he had that long suffering tone of someone used to admonishing others. Billy should probably take him out first. Preferably without killing, bodies raised questions and they didn’t need a mob of the sheriff and his men following them to bring them back to answer those questions. No, Billy just needed to incapacitate him, it was fortunate that he and Goody were leaving town anyway.

With Jack and John’s attention on Ezekiel, Billy darted forward. Of course that made Jack look at him again, but before he could aim and shoot, Billy had his wrist in a tight grip.

“How about it?” Billy asked. “No guns?” Had he not been holding John’s gun in his other hand he could have pulled out a knife and been more persuasive, a little bloodshed would have to be acceptable. Instead he twisted the man’s wrist until he could hear the bone in the man’s wrist pop, and Jack let out a pained sound, hand going relaxed and Billy easily plucked the gun from him.

At that moment he felt something hitting him in the small of his back, and he jumped to the side to get away from Ezekiel and his improvised club. His back was stinging, but he ignored that. Tossing the guns away to land in a pile of hay in an empty stall.

All three of them rushed him at the same time, rather than going after their guns, and Billy easily blocked and dodged the punches that started flying. When they got a little too close and he felt crowded he ducked down into a crouch before diving between John’s legs. While doing so he twisted on the ground and brought his boot up and kicked the man in the groin, which made him double over with a yelp.

“Would it change your mind if I told you I’m innocent?” Billy asked, and swept a leg to kick one of them, Ezekiel, on the shin before Billy got up on his feet again.

“Strangely no,” Jack said. “Most people we catch claim they are innocent.” He punched Billy on the side of the face, but Billy saw the fist coming and only just managed to dodge, the hand simply grazing his cheek.

Billy didn’t want to say something vain like “watch the face,” but if he came back to Goody with a growing bruise on his face there was definitely going to be questions. Questions Billy would prefer to not answer.

He managed to hit Jack with an uppercut right under his chin, throwing his head back. In that moment Ezekiel got in a good swing with his broken chair leg, hitting Billy in the side. He stumbled a couple of steps.

They might be amateurs, but they did have an advantage in numbers. Billy couldn’t take all three of them at the same time.

“John, get yourself together,” Jack hissed at that moment.

“But he kicked me in the nuts,” John whined.

“Well, kick his nuts then.”

Billy danced out of range of Ezekiel’s club. He grabbed a broom just standing there leaned against a post. Hefting it in one hand he wielded it like a sword and was able to easily knock the broken chair leg out of Ezekiel’s hand.

“I really am innocent,” Billy said again. Jack scoffed.

The three of them were eyeing the way Billy was standing, a broom’s length apart, but they were closer to the stall where Billy had tossed the guns now.

“They made it common knowledge that you took the job,” Jack said.

“Of course they did,” Billy muttered. “They are setting me up.”

“That’s a fancy story, you can tell that to the Courts when they see you,” Jack said, clearly not believing him, and why would he. The Courts weren’t likely to believe him either, what with him not belonging to any court. He’d been the perfect pawn in a game he should have known better than to get involved in. It rankled that no matter where he turned people were always looking for ways to use him to further their own agendas.

He saw John grab Ezekiel’s arm in what looked like a bruising grip and pointing at the stall where Billy had tossed the guns. Ezekiel hurried over there. Billy pulled a knife, and set his aim, not to kill, not even to maim, just close enough to scare, and tossed it.

The knife flew true, and just as Ezekiel bent down, the knife whizzed past his ear and the blade dug deep into the wood in front of his eyes.

“You wanna try that again?” Billy asked. Ezekiel stood frozen in place.

John started moving towards him. Billy pulled and threw another knife, nailing John’s shirtsleeve to a post.

“Look, I really am being set up,” Billy said. “I have a really strict working code, and what happened,” he took a breath, because suddenly thinking about what he had seen when he arrived he almost retched. “I never would have agreed to anything like that job.”

“I don’t care,” Jack said. Of course he didn’t care, just like no one else was going to listen to Billy’s version of events. Goody might listen, might even understand; but Billy would still have to admit to the things he had done. And he couldn’t be as sure that Goody would be as accepting of those things.

Jack came towards him. Billy smacked him in the side with the broom shaft. All the frustration he was feeling funneled into pure annoyance, and suddenly he was just so done. He watched Jack stumble to the side from the blow, feet tripping over an overturned pail and he went down with a yelp, hitting his head on a corner of the wall to one of the open stalls. And Billy was so very done with everything and everyone, especially these three blundering idiots.

It was insulting, these three were coming after him? He hadn’t worked this hard on not being caught before; there were jobs he had done that nobody even knew were done by him, he was so good at evading everyone, and then he took the wrong job, and suddenly he had to deal with amateur bounty hunters nipping at his heels. They were little kittens thinking they could take on a full grown tiger.

As Jack started to heave himself up, Billy hit him on the top of the head with the broom.

“Stay down,” he ordered and turned to the other two.

Ezekiel had helped John pull out the knife, and now they were both armed with Billy’s knives. Billy sighed, now he had to take them back. Everything about this situation was annoying him. He spun the broom in his hand twice before grabbing the shaft in both hands and at the same time as the other two would-be bounty hunters charged at him, Billy started running towards them as well and with the broom pushed them up against a wall.

“Look,” Billy said, pressing a little harder on the broom against their chests, pinning them there, their arms pinned down as well. “I have very little patience for this.” He really hoped Goody wouldn’t show up to check why he was taking so long. “I know you won’t believe me, but I really am being set-up because I am an easy scapegoat.”

“Then why’d you run away?”

“You saying I should have stayed? You think they would have listened to me?”

Neither of them answered him; probably because they agreed he had a point.

“I don’t care about clearing my name or anything like that, I just want to live. That’s why I am here. I didn’t think anyone would follow me all the way here. I underestimated people’s tenacity, and greed apparently.”

“You are all everyone is talking about, of course we had to try and capture you,” Ezekiel said.

“Oh, great,” Billy muttered. That might mean more bounty hunters would come through the breach. “Well, you won’t be the ones.” Billy said.

At that moment John pushed forward, making Billy step back. Free from the restraint John lunged for him. Billy spun around him and hit him in the back, forcing him to rush forward and away from Billy who finished his spin.

He saw Ezekiel coming towards him with the knife, mouth open. Billy used the tip of the broom handle and slapped the underside of Ezekiel’s chin, making him close his mouth. Teeth digging into his tongue, and he screamed in pain.

Billy spun the broom in his hand, getting a better grip on it, and slammed the shaft into the side of Ezekiel’s head making him crash into the wall and slump down on the ground.

Without a second glance at him Billy spun around, dodging John’s second attack, and spinning the broom once he spun around himself and slammed the broom handle into the back of John’s head, making him keel over with a shout of pain.

He spun the broom a couple of times before using the brush side of the broom to fish up a pail.

“Good night,” he said to John who was turning around, still kneeling on the ground, before Billy spun around and slammed the pail into the side of the man’s head, making him slump down. He was from Billy’s world, made of stronger stuff, he’d probably recover quickly enough. After that it was simply a matter of knocking out Ezekiel by coming up from behind and push him into a post head first.

He retrieved his knives, cut up some rope which had been tied around some hay. Tying their hands behind their back, and legs together, he gagged them with their neck kerchiefs and dragged them all into an empty stall.

He was halfway finished with getting his own horse ready when Goody showed up.

“What’s taking you so long?” Goody asked, as Billy met him by the door.

“I thought Mal—”

“Mallory-Jane.”

Billy continued without acknowledging the interruption and correction: “-looked like she had a swollen leg, but it seems to have gone down now.” Making up the lie on the spot. He expected Goody to rush over and start fussing over his horse, possibly insisting they stay another day, which would be a problem, and this was why making up lies on the spot was a bad call. He should have tried harder to come up with a lie ahead of time.

However, Goody was still standing there looking at Billy, a question written on his face, but Billy couldn’t read the question. Goody reached out towards Billy’s face, fingertips gently brushing Billy’s cheek. Billy flinched and Goody’s eyes widened and he pulled his hand back.

“What happened to your cheek?” Goody asked. Billy’s hand went to his cheek and he touched it gently, it stung a little under the touch, and he suspected when Jack’s hand had glanced off of Billy’s cheek, the ring he wore had nicked Billy a bit. He bit back a grimace, turning it into a reassuring smile.

“Nothing,” Billy said. “Must have accidentally cut myself.” It didn’t really hurt, what did hurt, was his back and side, and he was sure he had bruises blooming there, as well as on his arms that had blocked some of the blows. And when he moved he had to bite back a hiss of discomfort.

He didn’t really look forward to riding. If there weren’t three tied up bounty hunters in the stable, he could have insisted more on Mal’s imaginary leg injury and made them stay another day. There was a bath in the boarding house which would have been really nice for his sore body.

Goody smiled at him, eyes warm and the corners of them crinkling in that charming way of his, and he reached out again. This time Billy didn’t flinch, and Goody placed his fingers right underneath the cut, the touch gentle, he was always so gentle with Billy, and his heart started beating faster, and something deep in his stomach felt like it was pulling itself inside out with want.

“As long as you are alright,” Goody said.

“Of course I am,” Billy said. The unsaid _“you’re here, of course I am alright”_ felt like a warm heavy weight in his chest, not uncomfortable, but reassuring.

**~*~**

Billy had recognized them for what they were right away, and yet still even after shouting a warning to Goody to not touch them, Billy had been the one stupid enough to touch one of them, and now with a stinging hand, growing more and more red as the pain pulsed in his palm and radiated out towards his fingers and wrist, he glared at the offending little weasel which peered back at Billy with black beady eyes through the small gap between the two tree roots it had slunk in between to hide.

“I thought you told me not to touch them,” Goody said from behind him.

“Don’t,” Billy started.

“You shouted: ‘Goody don’t touch them!’. So I didn’t touch any of them.” He sounded annoyingly proud of himself when he said the last part.

Billy sighed and turned around, cradling his hand to his chest even though he was reluctant to show weakness in front of anyone, but the way it was stinging and burning had him gritting his teeth. He found himself thinking he almost preferred a stab or gunshot wound over this, at least those he could heal.

“Are you okay?” Goody asked, his tone of voice changing to pure concern and he looked at Billy’s hand with a worried line creasing his forehead.

“I’ll live,” Billy muttered. It would eventually stop stinging and burning and then his hand would feel numb for a couple of days. He was mostly embarrassed about doing such a needless mistake – in front of Goody. And he wasn’t ready to unpack why he wanted so badly to seem perfect in front of the other man.

“It’s getting away!” Goody shouted and Billy spun around and saw the weasel slink out of its hiding place. Next to him Goody hefted the cage with the already caught weasels, all of which squeaked and made other noises of protests from behind the bars.

Billy caught the pole with the hastily and sloppily tied fishing net Goody tossed to him, it had a long handle which had originally been cut to be used as a fishing pole, and it was what they had been using for the past four hours as they had tried capturing all of the weasles.

He took off after the small brown furry creature as it left the dead tree stump and started sprinting across the sand. They had been lucky that the breach was in the desert, it would have been next to impossible trying to capture them in a proper forest, which was where they originally lived, and didn’t really bother people.

Billy gripped the pole tighter in his left hand as he sprinted after the little weasel zig-zagging in front of him. Running from rock to rock trying to hide for a moment, trying to escape from Billy who swung the net down towards the weasel but it dodged just in time, taking off to the right and Billy turned after it.

This was hopefully the last one and Billy was determined to catch it. They didn’t look very dangerous, in fact they were rather unassuming, he had heard people call them cute. But while there was no outward warning – not like hedgehogs which at least had the spines that looked sharp and you’d avoid touching and thus didn’t get poisoned by the venom coating them – they did have a very unpleasant defense mechanism to their fur, which was that skin contact with it burned and stung and any place touched by it would become slightly numb and the mark would itch terribly for days afterwards.

Behind him he could hear Goody shouting encouraging words and unhelpful suggestions about which way he should run and when he should swing the net to catch the frustrating little weasel. If Billy hadn’t broken the other pole, by swinging it maybe a little too enthusiastically showing off, they’d still have two and it would probably have gone faster.

Finally Billy managed to scoop the little weasel into the net and it squeaked indignantly as Billy lifted it up in triumph and it dangled in the net. It was fortunate he could use both hands, but he tended to favor his right more, and it was going to be really frustrating not being able to use it as well for the next couple of days.

Goody sat down the cage next to Billy.

First they needed to get the last weasel into the cage and then dump them all into the breach, worrying about his hand would come later.

“Be careful,” Billy said as Goody bent down to open the lid on the cage.

“I know what I’m doing,” Goody said. Billy highly doubted that, but didn’t say anything, instead he held the net as close to the cage as possible. Inside the cage weasels where climbing and clambering all over each other creating a pile one of them could easily use to climb up to the lid and slink out once it was opened.

“If they all escape…” Billy started. Goody shot him a dirty look.

“I said I’ve got this.”

Goody opened the lid slightly, a quick weasel stuck its head out.

“Shit!” Goody cursed and pushed it back in and closed the lid.

“Any suggestions?” Goody asked looking over his shoulder at Billy.

Billy’s hand was still throbbing and he was very tired and sweaty and dusty after the day he’d had.

“I need a bath,” he muttered.

“We’ll reach a town tomorrow,” Goody said. “About the weasels…”

“Not tonight?” Billy asked. Goody shook his head.

“I know your horse is some kind of magical horse that never tires, and can cover longer distances in a freakishly short time, but Mal is going to need a break.”

“See, I told you the nickname would grow on you,” Billy said and grinned.

“Whatever,” Goody muttered. “It’s going to get dark soon, you gonna put that thing into the cage already?”

With only a minimal amount of bickering about how to do it, they eventually got the final weasel into the cage and could take off to the breach and dump them back home again.

Billy then took them a slight distance away from the breach before they made camp. Billy would have preferred to go even further away from the breach. He was feeling uneasy being so close to it now, but Goody would ask questions if they changed their pattern now; and he would inevitably have to tell the truth, the whole truth if he was to explain it.

“Let me look at it,” Goody said when Billy sat back after lighting the fire. He looked up at Goody standing over him.

“What?”

“Your hand, let me look at it.” He held out a jar. “I have a cream for burns, it might make it a little bit more bearable.”

“It’s magic resistant,” Billy said. “I don’t think a cream from your world is going to cut it.”

“No harm in trying,” Goody said and sat down cross-legged next to Billy, putting the small jar on a rock he unscrewed the lid, and before Billy could react he had grabbed Billy’s injured hand and pulled it towards him.

Resting Billy’s hand on his knee Goody scooped up a little bit of the ointment which smelled strongly of something Billy couldn’t identify but it was non the less a nice smell.

Goody started with Billy’s palm, and then lifted Billy’s hand, and in between his hands Goody started slowly massaging in the cream; his touch soft but firm, and Billy’s gaze trailed away from his hand between Goody’s and up along Goody’s body, the half unbuttoned shirt, collar bones peeking out in the v of his open shirt, the bobbing of his adam’s apple when he swallowed. Bottom lip between his teeth, a focused expression, eyes down-cast to their hands, and black eyelashes fanning out on skin that glowed in the fire light.

His hand still felt a little bit off, but it was a nice feeling to have it massaged by Goody. He glanced down at his hand, and watched and felt the way Goody was coating each of Billy’s fingers one by one with the cream. It really did feel good; a part of him almost wanted to ask if Goody could massage his other hand as well, even though it was fine, he wanted to prolong the contact, wanted to keep feeling this way, the warmth radiating from his hand no longer that of pain but rather something else, something more pleasurable.

He sighed. Goody looked away from their hands, and up into Billy’s face. His expression shifting to concern.

“You okay?” Goody asked, his voice so soft and gentle and Billy had to close his eyes because the look in Goody’s eyes, the way his hand was held still between Goody’s warm strong hands, it was all too much.

Billy’s heart twisted in his chest. The easy way they had become friends, the way Goody seemed to genuinely care for Billy. The way Goody looked at Billy. It was so easy to fall; so easy to become addicted to this kind of attention.

“Much better,” Billy said, he suspected the itching would follow anyway later, but for now the worst of the throbbing burning sensation had gone away. He did the opposite of what he wanted to do and pulled his hand back to himself again.

“Thank you.”

Goody’s smile was so bright, so radiant in the light of the fire, creases at the corners of his eyes and Billy wanted to ask him to always smile like that; wanted to tell him, promise him that he would always make sure Goody had a reason to smile. He didn’t know when it started; these growing feelings for Goody, but started they had and Billy didn’t quite know what to do with them.

**~*~**

There were grey clouds gathering on the lilac sky, dark grey. Goody didn’t know if it was because he was starting to get used to the sky being a different color, but the purple sky didn’t seem as strange as it did the first couple of times. Losing track of time staring at the gathering clouds it took him longer than usual before he started to walk across the field of grass towards the house hidden behind the bushes.

He was so very aware that he was dreaming, that this was the same dream he’d had for many many nights and that there was something hidden he needed to find. He’s never had a dream like this before, his nightmares are vivid and horrible and wake him up often, but he’s never aware in the dream that he is dreaming, its real and yet he doesn’t know its not real. This dream feels different, he knows its a dream, but it doesn’t feel unreal, not even the sky.

Bees buzzed around in the air around him as he walked to the door.This time he hesitated at the door to get a proper look at the carvings; there was a large lion with the massive wings of an eagle sprouting from its back, and surrounded by flower vines.

This time no Billy showed up to interrupt and Goody opened and stepped through the door. On the other side was a large hallway; too big for the simple cottage he had opened the door to. Frowning he stepped backwards to the outside again, and backed a couple of steps away from the house, looking at it. It was very small, looked like it couldn’t be more than two rooms at most, didn’t even seem like it would have a second floor.

Still with a frown he stepped back inside and stood in a hallway with a ceiling impossibly high, the ceiling was painted filled with colorful flowers and green plants and vines, and more of the winged lions. There were winged lions on the floor as well, statues as tall as Goody two on his right and two on his left, in between tall pillars, actual green vines with white flowers growing around the pillars. A deep purple carpet lay on the stone floor and Goody walked across it to the double doors in front of him at the other end of the hallway, these had no carvings in them, one was closed the other wide open.

Goody stopped in the doorway of what at first glance looked like a huge throne room, but he didn’t have the time to look at it in more detail due to the first thing he saw. Blood and bodies all over the floor. What looked like a whole family, as well as guards and servants, all with their throats slit, and in the middle of it all a dark clad figure blood splattered all over his clothes.

Goody’s blood froze and the figure started to turn its head towards him, when with a gasp Goody woke up, sitting upright on his bedroll. The image lingering in front of his eyes, he couldn’t see their campfire and he felt bile rise in his throat. Leaning to his side he spat and retched, but while it felt like he was going to throw up, nothing came up.

A hand touched his back and Goody flinched before turning and seeing Billy crouching next to him, concern written on his face.

“Are you alright?” Billy asked.

The first few months they had ridden together, back when Goody was still haunted by dreams of his past he had woken in the middle of the night on several occasions, sometimes screaming and waking Billy as well. It had been a long time since that happened now, especially after Goody started dreaming of the field under the purple sky. But now once again he sat there shivering with memories of bodies, and his mind flashing other images in front of him, his own memories of the battlefield, of bodies strewn over the fields, in the grass and mud.

He closed his eyes, hoping to shut it all out.

“I– I opened the door,” Goody croaked out, his throat felt raw though he couldn’t remember screaming. A look of something flashed past on Billy’s face, but Goody was too distraught, still shivering and remembering the sight of the massacre, unable to focus on Billy, and so didn’t catch it.

“A massacre,” Goody mumbled. “All those people dead, and so much blood.”

“It was just a dream, Goody.”

“It felt so real.”

He looked out into the darkness all around them, swallowing them up, the two of them and what little light there still was coming from their fire. Hands, warm hands cupped his face, and his head was turned towards Billy.

“Goody,” Billy said, voice firm, and Goody looked into his eyes, his warm compassionate eyes. “It was a dream. Just… Just a dream.”

Just a dream. He was getting worked up over a dream. It wasn’t real, no matter how real it seemed.

**~*~**

In the morning Billy tried steering them away from the breach. An unpleasant emotion gnawing in his stomach. He never should have let Goody tag along, of course he couldn’t have known what would happen, why someone other than himself would take an interest in Goody, why Goody was dreaming of that place. The man had already been through enough, and here Billy was potentially dragging him into danger – albeit unintentionally because Billy was trying to avoid danger. Wasn’t he? Shouldn’t he have ridden away from the breach earlier if that was really true? He shook away that thought as it only served to make the thing gnawing away at his stomach more intense – he didn’t want any of this. Should he have told Goody earlier, let the man make up his mind about Billy’s ugly history and why he had come to Goody’s world. Now it was too late because Billy couldn’t bear the thought of parting with him.

He glanced at Goody, he had calmed down now that they were riding, and he was talking and smiling; Billy felt his heart twist. Goody made Billy smile and laugh; they could tease each other; he could talk to Goody; even if Goody did most of the talking, but he could be silent in comfort with Goody, and Goody didn’t seem to mind. Billy had found a friend in Goody, and it had been such a long long time since Billy had had someone to trust.

Goody made something warm in Billy’s chest unfurl, and he knew he wanted more, so much more. He could be just as greedy and possessive as everyone else, and he knew he wanted Goody, and sometimes; sometimes he thought Goody wanted him just as much; but something was making him hesitate.

He lost sight of the breach for a while, but a couple of hours later he could see it again. Apple had walked towards it; steadily turning north-west again instead of heading south.

Billy was considering course correcting again, Goody was so wrapped up in talking about poetry, something Billy usually would have been listening to, because of how passionate Goody always sounded when speaking about poetry; he might not even realize how they’d been zig-zagging across the desert. When they came upon a sign indicating they were not that far away from a town.

“Let’s sleep in a bed tonight,” Billy said to Goody, and pulled the reins, Apple craned her neck to give Billy an unamused look, at least that was how Billy chose to interpret it, he ignored it.

No sooner had they arrived in the sprawling mining town – the largest one Billy had seen so far, it had three streets – before Goody said “I need a drink.”

“We should rent a room first,” Billy said. Knowing if they both got drunk before procuring accommodation could end with them sleeping in the barn.

“I’ll take the horses,” Billy said, “you go to the boarding house.”

“Meet you at the saloon later.”

**~*~**

Billy half carried Goody to the boarding house later that night, Goody hanging heavily on Billy, needing him as support since his legs didn’t seem to be working properly.

Fortunately their room was on the ground floor, and they didn’t have to try and climb up a staircase, just sway together down a corridor until Goody exclaimed: “here it is!”

“Key?” Billy asked, but when no immediate action happened from Goody, Billy shrugged him off of his shoulder and leaned him against the wall next to the door instead and started going through Goody’s jacket pockets, eventually pulling out a heavy key.

Letting Goody lean on him again – he wasn’t even pretending to complain about it, he enjoyed the closeness too much – he opened the door and they stepped inside, Billy kicking the door close behind them.

“There’s only one bed.” Billy stated, one narrow bed standing along the opposite wall, their bags resting at the foot of the bed.

“They didn’t have any other rooms,” Goody said turning his head to speak directly into Billy’s ear, hot air hitting his skin, making him shiver. “Unless we wanted to share a room with four others. And I…” He trailed off and BIlly thought about Goody waking in the middle of the night and screaming. It was probably for the best then, if inconvenient.

He walked Goody to the bed and pushed him down on it before helping the man with his boots at least. Goody could sleep in his clothes, Billy thought it would be crossing a boundary too many if he undressed the other man. But as he was pulling off Goody’s boots, Goody suddenly sat up and started pulling off his own shirt. Before Billy could do or say anything Goody was shirtless, and Billy had to swallow where he was kneeling on the floor and looking up at Goody and all that pale skin on display; a tattoo above his heart which Billy couldn’t tell what it was supposed to be, it looked like something light blue which had faded with age.

Billy bit his lip and looked down at his hands instead. He put Goody’s boots under the bed and then rose up on his feet again while Goody laid down and Billy helped him pull the thin blanket over him. He turned ready to go, when a hand gripped around his wrist, and he stopped.

“Where are you going?” Goody asked.

“The livery,” Billy said. Turning around to look at Goody frowning at him.

“Why?”

“There’s only one bed,” Billy said.

“Then I’m coming too,” Goody said, and started flailing to sit back up again. “I’m not making you sleep out there alone.”

“Goody,” Billy said, gently pushing him down on the bed. “The livery is more comfortable than the floor, and besides you could use a night in a bed.”

“I’m not,” Goody started protesting and swatting at Billy’s hand on his chest pushing him down. “I’m not making you sleep on the floor.”

“What then? Am I to sleep standing up in the corner like a statue?” Billy asked, a little amused.

“Are you deliberately obtuse?” Goody asked, sounding incredulous and a little bit miffed.

“I’m going,” Billy said turning away again. But Goody grabbed his wrist once more and in a quiet voice said: “Stay.”

Goody’s eyes were soft, and his mouth downturned when Billy turned to face him again.

“Stay,” Goody repeated. “I don’t want to dream again.” Perhaps Goody was drunker than usual, because Billy didn’t think he’d ever seen him so openly vulnerable. His heart twisted and he closed his eyes.

“It’s not like its going to make a difference,” Billy said. “I can’t stop it from happening.” But while talking he started to step out of his boots, and then let Goody tug him down on the bed.

“I don’t want to be alone when I wake up,” Goody said, too painfully honest and vulnerable.

They twisted and turned getting comfortable, trying to leave space between them. Goody lying pressed against the wall, and Billy lying almost at the edge of the bed, both facing each other. Billy watched Goody’s face as the other man closed his eyes, still holding onto Billy’s wrist which Billy hadn’t wanted to free.

“I’ll be here,” Billy mumbled.

He watched Goody fall asleep. His breathing slowly evening out, his face smoothing out, no more frowns, no more haunted gaunt looks from dreams he shouldn’t be having. Between curtains that hadn’t been closed the moon shone through the window, and Billy watched Goody; his eyes hungry and it felt like he was memorizing everything about the man. His nose, his mouth. He felt tense and a little bit like he was doing something he wasn’t supposed to do; a bit like the first time he stole something, no like the first proper robbery. Stealing glances was pickpocketing, but this was more along the lines of a robbery, night time and no one there to catch him and make him stop taking his fill.

They were so close together, and if Billy hadn’t been supporting his head with one arm, and the other wasn’t still held in Goody’s grip he could have reached out and touched him. He could imagine though, what it would feel like to drag his fingertips across Goody’s face, pressing a thumb to Goody’s lips, knuckles brushing across his cheeks, fingers skating down along his jaw, down his throat, the jutting out adam’s apple. And then the wide expanse of Goody’s chest...

He slowly felt his eyelids becoming heavy despite his mind swirling around with all kinds of thoughts; and he slowly started to drift off, lulled to sleep by Goody’s even breathing. .

**~*~**

Goody woke to sunshine streaming through the window, he felt warm even though he wasn’t underneath a blanket anymore, instead his legs where tangled with someone else, and he had an arm lying around his waist, his own arm wrapped around someone’s shoulders, and soft warm breath on his face. When he opened his eyes, his face was mere millimeters from Billy’s sleeping face.

He moved his head back an inch, nothing more, and the arm, Billy’s arm tightened around Goody’s waist. Goody looked at Billy’s sleeping face; he was so handsome Goody’s chest hurt.

Goody had slept soundly all night through, it was most likely because of the drink, but a part of him wondered if perhaps Billy’s presence had had something to do with it as well.

Without really thinking about what he was doing Goody brushed a stray lock of hair behind Billy’s ear, and then continued running his hand through Billy’s long soft hair.

Goody was still looking at him, expression unguarded when Billy’s eyes fluttered open, and Goody didn’t know what Billy could see on his face, his fingers stilled where they were still buried in Billy’s hair.

“Don’t stop,” Billy whispered, voice sleep rough and deep pulling at something deep in Goody’s chest, and he started carding his fingers through Billy’s hair again. Billy’s arm tightened even more around Goody’s waist, pulling them flush together from hip to feet.

“I–” Goody started unsure what to say. How to put into words how he felt. Billy smiled and it was like watching a sun.

“The great Goodnight Robicheaux speechless?” Billy asked.

“You,” Goody started but he couldn’t finish. Couldn’t say: “You take my breath away, rob me of my words and common sense.”

“Me?”

“How are you real?” Goody asked, and moved his hand from Billy’s hair to lightly brush his fingertips against Billy’s cheek. Billy pulled and turned them so that Goody was lying with his stomach on Billy’s; his legs between Billy’s open thighs; one hand holding his upper torso up, the other still cupping Billy’s cheek; looking down at him, the distance between their mouths only an inch.

“I could ask you the same thing,” Billy murmured. Soft puffs of air against Goody’s lips. He watched Billy lick his lips, eyes stuck on them glistening and plump. A wave of want crashing over him, washing away any hesitation and second thoughts.

“Can I?” Goody whispered.

“I wish you would.”

Goody leaned even closer lips hovering just above Billy’s slightly parted lips, he could feel him breathing and then...

The door crashed open.

Goody looked over his shoulder as a flurry of skirts entered through the broken door. Billy heaved and Goody landed hard on the floor. Scrabbling to sit up and face the door. A woman wearing a black mourning dress, unadorned and with very little frills, black satin gloves, a black bonnet with a veil hiding her face and wielding a shotgun strode into the room.

Billy vaulted out of the bed and landed in front of Goody who reached for his own shotgun.

“Boots,” Billy shouted and Goody reached for his boots instead. But didn’t get the chance to more than grab them, before he heard the rifle cock and Billy threw himself down on top of Goody as the gunshot rang loudly in the cramped room. The bullet going through the wall.

The next second Billy was flying through the air, literally. Goody quickly pulled on his boots. A rifle clattered to the floor and the woman threw herself in the opposite direction to avoid Billy’s kick.

She collected herself remarkably quickly, spinning on one leg unhindered despite her skirts, and Billy hit the wall with a loud thud and a groan after her foot hit him in the side under his ribs.

Once again Goody scrambled for his rifle, but once he held it in his hands he hesitated. Could he really use it; never mind that he seemed unable to pull the trigger most of the time these days, she was still a woman.

While he hesitated Billy and the woman were trading blows, blocking with their arms and neither of them actually really hitting the other, trying to find weaknesses in each other’s defenses, their arms moving almost faster than Goody could see.

Billy ducked, her punch went over his head and he pushed her away. She flew backwards through the room, her bonnet falling askew and Goody saw a flash of a red braid, and then she crashed into a chair, which in turn crashed into the wall and broke. She rose to her feet immediately, correcting her bonnet and then picked up two broken chair legs.

“Grab our things and go!” Billy shouted. Goody hesitated. The woman turned her head towards Goody. Spinning the chair legs in her hands. Billy came flying through the air, landing in front of Goody, who was getting a bit tired of Billy seeming to think he had to protect Goody. It rankled something inside of him, some part that was still proud.

He did grab their bags though, as well as Billy’s boots and got up on his feet finally. While Billy and the woman spun around in circles in a violent dance of quick blows from the sticks she was now wielding, and the fast kicks Billy delivered, no hesitation at all to him, and there was something undeniably attractive about the way he fought. How graceful and competent he looked blocking her hits, still with only his arms, and they were going to be very bruised later, but now he looked like he barely noticed it.

Goody hurried around them, quickly opened the window and tossed their things out through it since they were on the first floor, but he held onto his rifle, and Billy’s knife belt, hesitating by the window.

“I’m not leaving without _you_,” Goody shouted at the same time one of the chair legs got kicked out of the woman’s hand and it came sailing through the air, almost hitting Goody in the head.

Billy turned to him and Goody tossed the knife belt to him. Billy caught it in the air, pushed the woman into the wall and then whipped out two knives tossing them so that they caught the hem on the arms of her dress pinning her to the wall. She finally made a noise, shouting something that could have been a curse word Goody had never heard before. He didn’t think more of it though, instead grabbing Billy’s hand and dragging him over to the window.

They exited through the window. Billy grabbing his boots and Goody turning to face the window with his rifle. Billy had one boot on when the woman came up to the window. Goody took aim, slowing down his breathing he swallowed hard and squeezed the trigger his shot hitting the wall above the window, true to his aim, and the woman pulled back.

Billy’s hand gripped his bare arm, and Goody realized he was shirtless as he was pulled into a run towards the livery.

**~*~**

“What was that about?” Goody asked when they had put some distance between them and the town. When they had to slow down to let their horses rest.

They were in the shade in a canyon, the horses breathing hard near them, and Billy had been looking at their hooves and legs to make sure they hadn’t injured themselves during the wild ride. Meanwhile Goody had dug through his bag, thankful that the one he had managed to bring included an extra shirt, along with his flask, and the knife he’d gotten from Billy.

Now he turned to Billy who was wiping off his hands on his jeans. His hair was still loose, never put up properly and as such a lot of locks were out of order and Goody had to quell an impulse to reach out and run his hand through the hair, now that he knew what it felt like he wanted to touch it again.

Billy’s face was expressionless as he turned away from Goody’s gaze.

“I wasn’t entirely truthful about why I came to your world… I have done things...” Billy said. “It was my only choice if I wanted to live, and then...” He trailed off still looking away. “If it was about any of the things I did in the past I might have stayed but–” He turned to Goody, eyes earnest and voice so believably genuine.

“They are setting me up to take the fall for their atrocities.”

“So you came here?”

Billy nodded. “I thought they’d leave me alone, that I could just slip away and hide here instead.” He scoffed and looked down at the ground. “I was far too optimistic apparently.”

“And now you have bounty hunters after you?”

Billy nodded again, and opened his mouth when a gunshot in the distance interrupted making them both jump. A man shouted “He went in here with his partner!” Another shot rang out, and sounded like it came from the end of the canyon Billy and Goody had entered.

“Amateurs,” Billy muttered.

“How many do you have after you?” Goody asked.

“Probably many,” Billy said. “We need to get going again.”

They continued riding through the canyon, Goody in the lead and Billy bringing up the rear with his guns. They couldn’t gallop or canter, trot was risky enough, but it was at least faster than walking. Still Goody was able to glance over his shoulders a couple of times, looking at Billy who was turned halfway around in his saddle to look behind them, tense and ready like a spring.

How much did Goody really know about Billy, he thought as he turned around again.

But it wasn’t as if Goody didn’t have his fair share of actions he later felt guilty over, choices that made him not so much the hero people had wanted to call him. They called him a war hero, but he had never felt as such, besides the side he fought for lost, there were no winners or heroes on his side. Did that say about his character? Surely he could be no better than Billy, even if Billy hadn’t gone into details. Goody wanted to know more, but they reached the other end of the canyon, the two ridges continued to tower over them, but they widened, and when Goody looked up at the top of them he could see the top of them come together on the other side, forming a sort of round valley inside a bowl of rock, and in the middle of it stood an improbable wooded area. No grass, just rocks and sand, and trees; blood red leaves on twisting curving branches reaching for the sky so far above.

Billy rode ahead, and Goody followed, the trees growing far apart that it was easy to ride between them, even though they had had to slow down to a walk.

“These don’t belong here.” Goody heard Billy murmur.

Behind them came the sound of hooves and Goody and Billy urged their horses on a little bit more. Apple as usual seemed to have boundless energy, but Mallory-Jane was definitely feeling the effects of the earlier hasty ride and panting hard.

“The breach,” Billy said suddenly, but Goody hadn’t even needed him to tell him. Usually he did need Billy to point it out, the glimmer of the breach nothing more than a glittering thread in the air, like a spider’s web, easily missed. But not here, where it looked like someone had placed an enormous mirror from one end of the canyon wall to the other. A large rock wedged in the lower half of the glass and from it like a spider’s web cracks spreading out could be seen. There was a rhythmic thudding noise, as if someone was knocking on the glass repeatedly in a slow pattern. Billy’s horse whickered.

There were some large boulders lying around, and the trees while they seemed to have somehow slipped through the cracks, gave the actual wedged in stone a wide berth in a sort of semi circle on both sides.

They dismounted and tied their horses to nearby trees, but had barely finished doing so and walked closer to the breach, before they heard loud noises coming through the vegetation and soon three men leading their three horses could be seen between the trees.

“Oh, its them again,” Billy muttered.

“Friends of yours?”

“Wouldn’t call them friends precisely,” Billy said. “Bounty hunters.”

“Of course, and they are after you?”

“Yes,” he muttered, an unimpressed look at his face. “Not very competent bounty hunters.”

“And this offends you?” Goody asked, not masking his amusement. Billy turned to him.

“Of course! I can’t believe there are amateurs coming after me!”

Billy seemed genuinely offended by this, and Goody definitely wasn’t able to hide his mirth.

“I didn’t have the opportunity to kill them last time, because leaving bodies in a town would raise too many questions, but now I can deal with it.”

“A shame to have to kill them,” Goody said.

“What makes you say that?” Billy asked.

“Better the amateur you know, than the expert you don’t.”

“What does that even mean?” Billy asked, perplexed expression on his face.

“Just that perhaps we could simply hog tie them, toss them through the breach and be rid of them. If they show up again we know what they look like.”

Billy tilted his head.

“There is logic to that statement, but it still seems easier to just get rid of them. _Permanently._”

“Let’s try my way this time,” Goody said.

Billy shrugged, which Goody took to mean he was in agreement.

“The short one with a mustache and beard is named Jack, I think he’s their leader,” Billy said.

“You think I’d look good with some facial hair?” Goody asked, stroking a hand over his chin. They had left so abruptly he hadn’t had time to shave, and there was a considerable stubble growing now instead of his usual clean shaved features.

“You always look good,” Billy mumbled, eyes glued to the approaching bounty hunters. Goody’s heart swelled with joy temporarily distracted, as Billy continued.

“The other two are John and…” I can’t remember his name, Billy said. “They’re the two taller guys. I’ll deal with them, and you take care of Jack.”

Goody nodded.

It was in the end a very brief scuffle. Goody picked up a tree branch. The men left their horses near Billy and Goody’s horses, and when Jack first stepped between a rock and a tree into the semi circle directly in front of the breach, Goody slammed the branch into his face so hard Goody saw his eyes roll back as he fell to the ground.

“Thought you said no killing,” Billy murmured quietly to Goody with a small smile as he slank past to deal with the other two who had stopped in surprise when they saw their leader crumple to the ground.

In no time Goody was tying up three knocked out would-be bounty hunters, with the lengths of rope hanging on their saddles, while Billy was rummaging through their bags.

Goody finished the last of the knots and straightened up to look over at Billy who still had one hand in one of the bounty hunters saddle bag, but he was looking at the breach with a calculating look on his face.

“I have a theory on how maybe I could fix the breach.,” Billy murmured.

“What do you mean?” Goody asked, and watched Billy pull a stick of dynamite out of the saddlebag. Goody was just about to point out that dynamite didn’t really do much fixing, rather the opposite, but Billy started talking again.

“It’s magical, so perhaps fixing the place it originally was broken fixes all of the cracks? That way I won’t have to deal with any more bounty hunters.”

Goody’s heart skipped a beat, Billy wanted to stay here. However the rational part of his brain tried talking down his treacherous hopeful heart, of course Billy would stay, he was a wanted man in his world, it had nothing to do with Goody.

“Are you sure?” Goody asked.

“It feels like a possibility. I can almost close them after we return something to the other side. I kind of know how to do it in theory.” Billy said.

Goody felt a little bit uncertain, but these past months there had been a lot of situations he didn’t quite understand. So while Billy busied himself with the dynamite Goody dragged the three bounty hunters behind a boulder, and made sure all the horses were securely tied up and didn’t run off in a panic when the explosion went off.

Goody crouched down behind another boulder and looked over the top of it, as Billy lit the fuse and sprinted towards Goody’s boulder, skidding around it to crouch down beside Goody side by side pressed close.

The loud explosion made Goody’s ears ring, and rocks and stones came flying fortunately hitting the boulder they were crouched behind.

As soon as silence had settled a loud roar broke it again. Goody and Billy looked over the top of their boulder. In the breach was now a large hole with white light shining through it. Another roar from the hole, and next to Goody Billy murmured: “I might have made a mistake.”

Somewhere behind them a horse whickered and Goody didn’t know which one, but he had a feeling it was Billy’s again.

The next second the huge head of a dragon came through the breach. Its long snout first and then its long body slithered out on three pairs of legs. It was enormous twice as tall as Goody, with its legs surprisingly short letting its body almost touch the ground, making it seem even more snake-like. Its tail was still coming through the hole, it was almost as long as a redwood tree was tall. Its scales an inky black, but with flecks of blue glittering on its scales as it curled up like a snake. Head lifted and an iron chain hanging around its neck, and a pendant hanging from it. Wings folded together over its back, black with flecks of blue as well, and sprouted from its back not far from its head. It looked more like the depiction of dragons from the east than the traditional European dragons.

A large golden eye fell on Goody and Billy, and Goody felt his blood freeze and his body lock up in fear. He couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe; stuck in one place until a hand pulled him down behind the rock, holding on to him, and Goody scrambled and flailed with hands and arms that didn’t want to work at first before he could take a firm grip on Billy, feeling how his whole body was trembling.

A dragon, a huge dragon had just come through the hole from another world.

And then a strange noise reached his ear, something retching. And Goody and Billy this time leaned out on the side of the boulder rather than over it, and watched as the dragon, looking a little like a cat trying to throw up a hairball, was retching over and over again, until it unhinged its jaw and ejected something large which thudded down on the ground, and that was when Goody realized it was the body of a human.

The dragon lifted its head and stared down at the human.

“Take me to The Lost Court,” the dragon demanded in a breathy voice. The human it had just thrown up said nothing and lay completely still. Annoyed at the lack of response the dragon nudged the bile covered and still human with its nose. “Useless,” the dragon said with distaste and glared at the human.

At that moment a noise from beside Goody and Billy brought its attention, as well as Goody and Billy’s. The men had been busily trying to escape from their ropes, and in their haste had pushed one of them, either John or the one Billy couldn’t remember the name of, out from their cover and now the dragon spotted them. It lunged forward picking up the bounty hunter in its mouth lifting him in the air, but as he was tied to his compatriots they too were lifted, and dangled in the air, screaming their lungs out.

The dragon let them down on the ground again, and they quickly huddled together, on their knees in the dirt, hands stretched forward, palms and foreheads on the ground. As they whimpered in fear.

“Are you the ones I have to thank for opening the way?” the dragon asked. The three bounty hunters were whimpering too much to answer. The dragon breathed out an annoyed huff.

“Shall I just eat you then?”

“No! No! Please no!” they all shouted in one voice.

“Can you be useful to me though?” The dragon asked, as if they might possibly answer ‘no’ and it could eat them after all. “Can you take me to The Lost Court?”

The men on the ground were silent for a bit, before the one in the middle said: “Yes.”

Goody assumed it was a lie, based on the way his friends kicked him, and Jack hissed out an annoyed “Ezekiel”, but the dragon didn’t notice. It had lifted its head again and was looking away into the distance.

“Very well then.”

The dragon grabbed them by the rope, they screamed and the dragon ignored their screaming. The dragon made an almighty jump and threw itself up into the air, the wings unfurling, the wing tips brushing the edges of the canyon as it flew out of there, its body slithered in a zig-zag motion as it flapped its wings once and then just left its wings spread, the body continuing its undulating motion.

On the ground the body left by the dragon groaned and moved slightly, proving he wasn’t dead after all. Goody and Billy hurried forward to him. Goody lifting up and cradling the man’s upper body in his lap while Billy went to work trying to heal him.

Goody looked down at the stranger with his dark hair, and despite being covered in a dragon’s bodily fluids, very handsome face, and striking blue eyes when he opened them, looking up at Goody and smiling, a pretty mouth full of perfectly white straight teeth.

“You were inside a dragon,” Goody said, because it was kind of hard to get his head around the fact that a dragon threw up this guy, and he was still alive, though badly hurt. The guy coughed and vinced.

“I take it you’ve never had the pleasure,” the guy said.

“I don’t think the word you’re looking for is ‘pleasure’,” Billy said, frowning deeply. “Some of these wounds won’t heal.”

“I was in a dragon,” the man said. Surprisingly blasé about the whole thing judging by his tone of voice. “I’d be surprised if I came out of it completely unscathed.”

“How? Why were you inside a dragon?” Goody asked.

“It wasn’t my first choice of transportation,” The guy said. “I need to hurry now.” He struggled trying to get up, but he made a pained noise and Billy pushed him down against Goody again. “I have to go after the dragon,” the man protested.

“You just got out of it!” Goody explained, still a little bit hung up on the fact that the guy had survived inside a dragon.

“Well, this time I intend to kill it or die trying,” the man said.

“Instead of getting eaten?” Billy asked. He shook his head. “You are in no state to leave, much less fight a dragon.”

“But it’s important!” He protested. “If they find The Lost Court it will gather an army and subjugated both worlds.”

“I’m sorry, what?” Goody asked.

“The Lost Court is probably just a myth,” Billy said. Goody looked at him.

“You told me dragons didn’t exist in your world anymore.”

Billy looked supremely annoyed. The stranger meanwhile started talking again:

“Look, maybe I just had to listen to an old dragon’s mad ramblings for too long and there really isn’t a Lost Court, but that doesn’t change the fact that they can do a lot of damage on their own. It has to be stopped.” He tried to get up again, and once again had to give up due to pain.

“I’ll deal with the dragon,” Billy said.

“You what now?” Goody asked, things were a bit too crazy for Goody right now, even if he thought he had gotten used to crazy and weird over the past six almost seven months, nothing had really prepared himself for a dragon.

“He’s right, something has to be done about that dragon,” Billy said.

“Do you know anything about fighting dragons?” Goody asked incredulous. “You don’t.” he said, moderately certain this was the truth seeing as Billy hadn’t even believed they existed before this day. “This guy seems to have experience, and he still ended up eaten by a dragon.”

“This was my first time trying to fight a dragon,” the man said.

“See! He got eaten because it was his first time.”

“You don’t have to come,” Billy said.

“I didn’t say I didn’t want to come,” Goody protested. “No way am I letting you do this on your own.” The small smile Billy shot his way looked pleased and Goody’s heart twisted and he wondered if there would ever be a chance to bring up their almost kiss from earlier.

“What about me?” The man asked.

“We’ll drop you off at the nearest town,” Billy said. “You can rest and heal.”

**~*~**

“So we are chasing a dragon now?” Goody asked as they rode away from a town by the name of Toad’s Creek where they had left the man in the care of the local doctor.

“Second thoughts?” Billy asked, and Goody shook his head.

“No, not yet.” He thought about it for a second. “Ask me again once we’re face to face with it again. I’ve never felt my blood run quite so cold before. I couldn’t even move. No wonder that poor man got himself eaten.”

“We’re not getting eaten by a dragon.” Billy said with a determination that made Goody believe him, or at least believe that Billy believed in his own words completely.

“How are we going to chase this dragon?” Goody asked.

“Well, I think it will be quite easy,” Billy said.

“Why do you say that?”

“Do you think people are going to stay quiet if they see a dragon fly past their town?”

“You’ve got a point,” Goody said. But they weren’t going to reach the next town this day, it had already been late when they left Toad’s Creek and so they made camp in the desert.

“What if we are riding in the completely wrong direction now?” Goody said.

“We’re not,” Billy said. Goody raised an eyebrow at the conviction in Billy’s voice. “Apple knows,” Billy added. Goody raised both eyebrows.

“The horse knows?” Goody asked.

“She’s not a normal horse.”

“That much I know.”

“There are certain horses back home,” Billy started, and paused. “This is probably going to sound too made up and fantastical for you.”

“I saw a dragon today,” Goody said. He wasn’t likely to ever forget that memory. Fear and awe mingling in his chest, making him freeze in the same spot unable to look away.

“True,” Billy paused and looked into the fire. “People can task some special horses with a mission. The details of how are too complicated, and then they will stop at nothing to accomplish it.”

“I’d have assumed you’d task your horse to avoid bounty hunters, not to find a dragon,” Goody said.

“It’s–” He paused and made a grimace. “It’s not my horse.”

“You stole it?”

“By accident!” Billy protested.

“How do you accidentally steal a horse?”

“It started following me,” Billy muttered. “Their rider must have been detained for some reason and then I happened to walk past, I gave it an apple it started following me.”

Goody gave him a long look he hoped conveyed his disbelief.

“I tried to discourage it from following me,” Billy said. “But I realized it came from the same world as me because nothing could hold it. I didn’t realize it had a mission until much later, and then I just sort of went along with it.”

“So for these past months it has actually been your horse deciding where we are going?”

It took Billy a moment to nod.

It all sounded so ridiculous that Goody couldn’t help laughing, and once he started laughing he noticed Billy starting to smile and then chuckle as well. His smile lit up by the fire, and Goody’s heart swelled once more. He had been looking for something as well, and he had found it in Billy.

**~*~**

He was standing in the middle of the field once again, but there was an addition to the previous times, not too far from where he was standing he saw trees, dark, almost black, branches bare and reaching up to the sky, like fingers. And dotted on the branches were dozens upon dozens of dark birds perched, all of them watching Goody with four golden eyes each.

Goody shivered and started walking, wanting to get away from the birds.

In the sky dark clouds gathered blotting out the sun and the purple sky. He wondered briefly if the oceans in this place were purple or blue, or some other unbelievable color.

When he reached the opening in the bushes, where he could watch the cottage and the beehives, he hesitated. Wishing he could wake up, he didn’t want to go inside the cottage again. He couldn’t quite remember why he didn’t want to, but there was something inside he didn’t want to see again.

In the distance he heard the rumbling of thunder.

He walked forward without making the decision to walk forward.

Goody pushed open the door and stepped inside the same hallway as last time. Oil lamps hung on the walls and the pillars, the light flickering on the wicks helping creating shadows as Goody walked slowly past them.

The door to the next room was open this time too, and Goody’s feet obeying something pulling him forward took him through the open doorway.

Bodies strewn across the marble floor stained with blood, from some of the wounds blood was still trickling.

And in the middle of it all, a dark clad figure on one knee, the killer. Goody took an unsteady step further into the room when the black clad person turned his head. He wore a golden mask carved with intricate patterns, but there was something familiar about his chin, the shape of his mouth. The man smiled and reached up, removing his mask. The face looking back at him made Goody flinch back. Billy smiled at him from where he was kneeling, there was something strange about the smile, but Goody’s gaze was caught by the intensity in Billy’s eyes.

He woke with a gasp and a frozen heart, not realizing for a few seconds that he was already kneeling on the ground and a stranger was standing in front of him. Black eyes containing a galaxy staring down at him. Goody shivered.

“Your name,” the stranger said.

“Good— Goodnight Robicheaux,” Goody’s mouth said before his brain had fully registered how strange it all was.

“Thank you.” The man said and placed three of his fingers near Goody’s forehead and snapped once hitting him lightly on the forehead with his thumb.

_Everything went dark._

**~*~**

A heavy weight landing on Billy’s chest woke him up. He felt something sharp against his throat, and he opened his eyes.

Goody was straddling his chest and there was a knife held against Billy’s throat.

Surprise, shock fear gripped his muscles and he was frozen for a second, his brain trying desperately to piece together the unexpected situation he found himself in.

Above him Goody blinked and when he opened his eyes again Billy could see in the low firelight that they were not Goody’s own eyes. Vast black void’s where Goody’s blue eyes should be, and swirling in the middle of all that inky blackness were tiny white pinpricks of light. Galaxies were growing in Goody’s eyes.

An ache gripped his heart and regret, guilt and resignation sank like a lead weight into his chest. Steeling himself he bucked wildly underneath Goody dislodging him.

“I’m sorry,” Billy murmured before they started grappling for the knife. Billy was able to roll them over so that Goody was on the ground. He slammed the hand holding the knife against a rock, until Goody let go of the knife without making a single sound, despite his mouth being wide open.

Billy sprang up, kicking away the knife a few feet and then sprinted, picking up his knife belt and tossing it around the saddle horn before flying into the saddle.

He urged on his horse forward and away. Apple made a displeased noise, but she took off.

Billy rode in silence, only giving commands for Apple to run faster, otherwise his jaw was clenched and he put his trust entirely in Apple being faster and magical enough to compensate for any misstep or stumbling on rocks.

The sun had started to rise when Billy slowed down and started cursing at length and in two languages.

_Stupid. He had been so stupid._

He had heard about it, rumours of mind control, of people being made to do things against their will. He just hadn’t believed in it; it sounded too much like a made-up excuse for bad behaviour.

He should have done a better job at protecting Goody; should probably have told him everything. Although no matter what he had told him he hadn’t predicted this.What if he had told Goody the whole story, then maybe Goody would have left and he wouldn’t have been in danger, Billy wouldn’t have put him in a situation where he could be used like this.

The whole story; every dark little detail Billy was keeping from him because... Because Goody meant something to Billy.

**~*~**

He had just made camp and sat down to eat – and continue brooding – when a gunshot rang out in the silent air. His head whipped up in the direction it had come from, for a moment convinced that Goody had caught up with him. He pulled his gun out of reflex, turning in the direction, and saw that it was the woman in black.She was standing on a rock, the skirts of her black dress fluttering in the breeze, rifle held in steady hands, and the veiled bonnet hiding her face as she aimed the rifle at Billy.

“Give me back my horse!” She shouted.

_Oh_, Billy thought. Not a bounty hunter then.

“I need it!” Billy shouted back. The woman started stalking towards him. Billy with gun in his hand stood up ready to meet her.

“You do not understand what I had to give up.”

“Oh, I think I do.”

He didn’t know what she had given up, but it must have been something very valuable; a year of her life; a memory; something intangible but of immense value.

“But I need to get that dragon as well,” Billy said.

“That dragon ate my husband!”

_Oh_, Billy thought, again.

“Dark hair? Blue eyes? Chiseled jaw?” Billy asked.

“Huh?” Her mouth trembled, as she tried to keep up her mask.

“Because the dragon vomited a guy.”

“What?” Her voice lost some of its practiced emotionlessness, it almost trembled.

“Yeah, he was badly hurt but alive when he left him with a doctor back in Toad’s Creek.”

“He’s alive?” She asked, disbelieving, and for a good reason, but she started to lower her rifle a little.

Billy nodded.

Letting the muzzle of the rifle sink down entirely until it was pointing at the ground she took off her bonnet and threw it to the ground, her red hair in a messy braid and there was steel in her eyes.

“I guess you have two choices,” Billy said. “Go to him. Or, if you are still burning for revenge you can come with me.”

She hesitated, Billy could see it in every line of her, she must have been carrying around this burning need for revenge for so long, it wouldn’t be easy to just let go of.

She closed her eyes and took a deep breath.

“Which way to Toad’s Creek?”

Billy almost felt disappointed by her answer. He missed company; _he missed Goody_, and it had only been one day.

**~*~**

The rain had started when Billy rode into the town – the sign had claimed it was simply named Koyote – just a few rain drops, nothing much, but enough for Billy to want to find a room for the night, the clouds that had gathered during the day looked grey and unforgiving, something about them looked ominous.

By the time he started trudging down the street from the saloon – where they’d thankfully agreed to serve him, and as such it was on slightly unsteady legs he walked – towards the boarding house; it was raining quite heavily, the lights from the windows and the few lanterns hanging above porches did their best to illuminate but they left a lot of dark corners.

The street was already becoming muddy from the rain and people and horses having travelled on it during the afternoon and evening.

Something came running from his left. Following a surprised inhale Billy spun towards it, foot slipping a little in the slippery mud, other foot splashing down in a puddle.

A man came barrelling towards Billy who stood stock still in surprise.

_Goody had caught up with him._

Billy’s heart dropped and his stomach sank. He could see the wholy starry sky in Goody’s eyes, glinting in the light from lanterns.

He was too surprised. Too overwhelmed to move away and Goody caught him around the waist and they both went down hard on the muddy ground.

It was cold and wet seeping through Billy’s clothes instantly. He gasped for breath he lost when he landed, and struggled against Goody’s hold on him.

He was able to punch him in the solar plexus, getting Goody to loosen his grip on Billy who could twist them around and get up on his feet. Strong arms wrapped around his waist again and he was pulled down to his hands and knees, feet slipping in the mud.

Billy flipped them, using some of his own power over gravity, and they landed with Goody on the ground and Billy on top of him. In the scramble to get to their feet Billy felt a sharp pain in his arm, and when he stood up again and looked down at himself, he saw his shirt sleeve slashed open and blood starting to well from a cut on his arm.

When he looked over at Goody he was standing in a ready stance, legs spread and slightly crouched down, center of gravity lowered, his face expressionless and eyes making Billy shiver with discomfort. He was holding a knife that shone green in the light of the lanterns.

Billy wanted to scream with frustration and pain and the unfairness of it all. Instead he pulled two of his own knives.

_He’s being mind controlled_, Billy reminded himself, but it didn’t change the fact that Billy might die at the hand of his friend – his friend. Of course it would be one of the few friends he had made in his life. Because why would it end with the only paternal figure he had ever known trying to sell him, no of course his friend; the man Billy’s heart beat faster for, would try and kill him – unless he defended himself.

Rain still fell as they circled each other.

“I don’t want to hurt you!” Billy shouted even though it would make no difference to Goody, but it made a difference to Billy.

His stomach twisted. He really did not want to fight Goody.

His heart ached. Never get attached, the words ringing in his head. But Goody was supposed to be different. He was different. For the first time Billy had let his guard down, had let Goody crawl inside of him and making himself at home in Billy’s heart. There was a place inside Billy’s chest cavity that belonged to Goody only. And this was Billy’s reward for opening up? Die or be killed by the man he...

Goody made the first attack. Lashing out with his knife and Billy dodged, spinning around to kick the knife out of Goody’s hands, but Goody was surprisingly fast at moving out of the way.

Goody made a bold slashing movement towards Billy’s face, and Billy lifted his injured arm to block it, which he managed to do, but the pain lacing through his arm made him grit his teeth.

Goody tossed the knife to his other hand and Billy easily blocked the following slash from that hand. They continued so blocking and slashing, both of them accumulating a bunch of smaller cuts on their arms.

When all of a sudden Billy’s slash turned into a stab when Goody’s arm moved in an unexpected way as he tried to get past Billy’s blocking. Goody gasped, the first noise he had made, and something blue flashed in Goody’s eyes for a moment.

All Billy could do was stare, hands falling to his sides, his heart twisted painfully again. And then the empty dark stare was back on Goody.

Before Billy could react he was pushed back against the wall of one of the buildings, the green edge of a blade pressed against his throat. Billy pressed one of his knives against Goody’s throat, but without the same pressure as the one at his own throat.

“_Goody,_” Billy said. “_Goody. Please._”

He didn’t know if it was rain or tears falling down his cheeks.

At some point they had both lost their hats. Wet hair hanging down into their faces. Water trickling down under the collar of his shirt and down his back and chest. The white shirt he was wearing almost see through it was so wet, where it wasn’t stained from the mud. Goody was no different, his face gaunt and strained, eyes empty, and hair hanging down. He had the beginnings of a beard and looked just as dirty and wet as Billy.

“_Goody, it’s me._” He pleaded.

Billy could push Goody away, he had the strength, Goody without the same magic that made Billy special in this world. Billy could prolong the fight, make it last longer, Billy had more stamina, he would eventually win. But a win meant he’d have to kill Goody.

He knew it was tears down his cheeks now, mingling with the rain. It felt as if a knife was already buried in his chest and it was slowly turning.

What was he supposed to do?

He swallowed around the lump in his throat, knife blade scratching against his adam’s apple.

“Goody,” Billy started again.“Who gave you that knife?” He asked, it was a long shot, but a crazy idea suddenly came to his mind, and he had nothing left to lose “_Who_ gave it to you?”

Billy tried to take deep breaths.

“_Why do you have a knife?_” He insisted. “You use a rifle. The Angel of Death they called you, for your skill with the rifle.”

He thought he could see a small frown between Goody’s brows, but perhaps he was just imagining, _wishful thinking_.

“_Who_ gave you the knife?”

Something blue flashed in Goody’s eyes once more. A comet slicing through the black star sky, leaving a faint blue trail after it. The knife at Billy’s throat becoming lax for a second and Billy took the chance. Grabbing Goody’s soaked through shirt and arm, flipping them around so that he was pushing Goody against the wall. He leaned in closer.

“Look at me, Goody. Plea–se.” His voice broke. Tears still running down his cheeks. Goody had become too important to Billy. He meant so much to Billy.

Without thinking Billy leaned in pressing desperate lips against Goody’s lips, wet and cold from the rain. Goody’s mouth was unresponsive for a second before he started to kiss back, a hopeful wave of warmth crashed over Billy as he pressed in even closer. Coaxing lips to move against his until he heard a soft sound escape from Goody and Billy reluctantly moved back.

Blue eyes blinked open and looked at Billy with growing recognition and Billy felt as if his chest was about to burst.

“Billy?” Goody whispered. Billy smiled back at him relief coursing through his blood.

“Yes,” Billy whispered back. Before Goody’s eyes closed and he slumped forward, suddenly boneless and Billy caught him.

The short lived relief replaced by fear and worry. He half carried Goody, letting him lean heavily on him until he found the doctor’s office.

“We’ve– he’s been attacked,” Billy shouted to the nurse packing up to leave for the day. His voice summoned the doctor who took one look at their bedraggled forms and pointed towards a room.

“This way.”

Billy gently laid Goody down on the bed and then hovered over the doctor’s shoulder as he started examining him. Both the doctor and nurse had to wave him off several times when he was standing too close.

“He’ll live,” the doctor eventually said once he had patched up Goody, and Billy let out a sigh of relief.

“Good,” Billy said, turning. “I’ll be back later. Take care of him.”

“Wait, you’re injured as well,” the doctor protested.

“Just a scratch,” Billy said dismissive. “I’ll live.” His body thrumming with adrenaline, and blood boiling with anger now that the worrying was over. “There’s something I need to take care of.”

“But…”

Billy left and started looking for the man who had done this to Goody. It didn’t take him long to find him standing on top of a roof grinning.

Billy growled and threw himself into the air, flying towards him with knives drawn.

**~*~**

Goody woke slowly, disoriented and confused as to why he was lying in a bed. He turned his head to the side and saw Billy sitting in a chair, but with his arms crossed next to Goody’s blanket covered body, and Billy’s head resting on his arms. But when Goody opened his eyes Billy sat up straight and looked at him.

“You’re awake,” Billy said, with an unusually bright warm smile that made things to Goody’s insides. He wanted to squirm under Billy’s gaze but also contrary wanted Billy’s eyes to never stray away from him.

“Where am I?” Goody asked. And noticed his stitches and bandages. And itchy chin, and when he went to scratch it felt the beginnings of a beard he hadn’t had before. “What happened?”

“What do you remember?”

“I– I remember falling asleep next to a campfire; outside. Definitely no bed.”

Another memory assaulted him. Of standing in the middle of a throne room, bodies everywhere around him and– and–

“I had the dream again,” he said slowly, quietly. “I had the dream and–” He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, but that only made the memory stand out more, with all its grizzly details. He looked back at Billy instead. The real Billy. “And you were there.”

He knew what he hoped for in telling this; for Billy to tell him that dreams seldom make sense, that we populate the dreams with people we’ve seen. But none of that came out of Billy’s mouth. Instead he had a heavy frown and looked at everything except Goody.

“I’m sorry.”

“Billy…”

“I was– I did things to survive, and they weren’t always–” He sighed. “I wasn’t entirely truthful about why I came here; why bounty hunters are after me.”

“Billy,” Goody said again putting his hand on Billy’s.

“I killed people,” Billy said, pulling his hand away from Goody. His voice so matter of fact.

“I have killed people too.”

“Not the same thing.”

Goody thought of the ball of guilt and regret in his stomach; how it was only shoved aside but never entirely gone.

“I took money to do it.” He looked down, and then back up. “Except for the job they are now chasing me for.” He scoffed.

“You did it for free?” Goody asked, even though it seemed so unbelievable. Billy shook his head.

“I took money to kill one man; One bad man had to die and that’s what I was sent to do. It’s what I do, I kill bad men for money. And I never, _ever,_ leave collateral damage.”

“But this thing, this thing in my dream, it really happened?”

Billy nodded, eyes downcast.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. I couldn’t.”

“Why?”

Billy shook his head and didn’t answer the question.

“They planned on using me as a scapegoat, blame the unmarked, Courtless assassin for a massacre they committed. That way they could take the power of the court without a hitch.” He sighed and still didn’t look at Goody.

“It’s not that I don’t understand the why; the king was cruel and abusing his power, anyone would probably have supported a coup, if it wouldn’t have gotten you killed. But his family,”

Goody saw him blink, a pained expression on his face.

“The people who had no choice but to work for him, the servants the guards. None of them deserved what happened to them.” He shuddered. “When I got there and saw what had been done, I understood that I was just a means to an end, a convenient scapegoat. I never wanted to be a pawn, so easily sacrificed, in the game of The Courts.”

“So you ran.”

Billy nodded.

“I ran and hid here. Thinking I’d escaped.” He looked at Goody.

“You don’t have to believe me. I kept things from you. Didn’t tell you what your dream was, didn’t tell you what I had done.”

Goody wanted to say that he trusted, believed, Billy anyway. But he couldn’t really explain why, it was just a feeling he had deep in his gut.

“Why did I even have that dream?” Goody asked, it was a rhetorical question, he didn’t think Billy would have the answer. But Billy’s expression was uncomfortable and Goody with a start wondered if Billy did _know_ after all.

“I think something got to you,” Billy said slowly. “Something from my world got into your head and showed you that.”

“What for?”

“To make you angry enough,”

“It didn’t really make me angry, more sad,” Goody mumbled, and then: “Why make me angry?”

“So that it could easily convince you to kill me.”

A sudden flash of a memory emerged. He was standing in the rain, pressing Billy up against a wall and a green dagger in his hand pressed against Billy’s throat.

“I tried to kill you,” Goody said slowly, looking up at Billy. He closed his eyes and swallowed back the bile rising in his throat.

“You weren’t you,” Billy said, still so matter of fact, even though Goody had tried to kill him the previous day. Goody looked down at his hands, but with unseeing eyes, all he could see was the knife in his hand, how it made a little scratch in Billy’s neck and the knowledge that if he pressed harder he would kill him, maybe even before Billy managed to kill him.

“I tried to kill you.”

He could remember standing on a battlefield somewhere, and seeing a boy his age; a boy he had gone to school with for a few years; a boy he knew; wearing blue and both of them with the knowledge that they had to try their best to kill each other, despite having been friends once upon a time.

A knock on the door interrupted them.

“I think the doctor would like us to leave,” Billy said and rose to let in a man who introduced himself as Doctor Brigham. He gave Goody a quick once over, declared he would survive and then made a small shooing motion with his hand. Billy helped Goody up and soon they were walking out of the doctor’s office.

“What if I try to kill you again?” Goody asked in a whisper, walking on unsteady legs down the stairs, and if his legs felt like this now he couldn’t imagine how Billy got him up those stairs the night before.

“You won’t,” Billy said with his usual conviction.

“But what if…” Goody started. Billy turned around and fixed him with a look.

“I took care of it, he won’t bother you again.”

Goody swallowed and nodded, but there was still something gnawing in his stomach. Guilt and regret and a pinch of self loathing.

Billy stopped once they reached the livery, and turned to Goody.

“Do you still,” Billy started wetting his lips in a move that looked strangely uncertain and hesitant on Billy.

“Do you want me to leave?” Goody asked, all of a sudden his insides clenching in worry. Of course Billy would want him to leave, couldn’t take the risk, Goody was a weak liability. But the thought of separating from Billy made his heart wrench and tear.

“Should I,” Goody paused as well. “Would it be better if I left? I still…” He trailed off.

“Do you want to leave?” Billy asked. Which didn’t help. Goody didn’t understand what Billy wanted.

“Not– Not yet.” Goody protested, a brief moment of raw honesty from him quickly masked with: “We still have a dragon to catch.”

Billy gave him a crooked smile, but there was a missing light from his smile, it seemed dimmer than before.

As they left town Goody thought he heard a soft fluttering noise behind him, but when he turned around he couldn’t see anything like a bird anywhere near them.

**~*~**

_See it to the end_, Billy thought. There was still a dragon to deal with, even though it was difficult to focus on that part when he had Goody riding next to him once more, and all Billy wanted to do was run somewhere and hide, wrap Goody up and protect him from everything, even if Goody wouldn’t want that. No, Goody would leave once they were done. After all why would he want to stay with Billy who had lied to him, kept secrets from him, failed to protect him. Billy who had survived on money given to him to kill.

There weren’t a lot of other lines of work for Courtless. A lot of nobles had a lot of money to spend and an assassin who couldn’t be traced back to your own court in case he was caught, was always in demand.

Billy had given himself rules. No children, no collateral damage, and only going after those who abused their power.

He didn’t doubt that several of the courts were familiar with him by now, but because anyone could hire him they’d had more pressing concerns rather than one assassin. It all changed after the job in the Chimera Court. Probably because to an outsider it looked like a change in his modus operandi, rather than a set up. He had been offered the job, he had accepted it, but everyone had already been dead by the time Billy showed up.

Billy glanced over at Goody. The man had a far away look in his eyes and rode in silence, neither of which suited him very well. Billy wanted to pull him out of it, wanted to distract him. But he wasn’t sure it would be welcomed, or what he should say.

They came up on a ridge and in the distance Billy could spot a town; there was some sort of commotion just at the edge of the town, a lot of people on horseback, but by the time Billy and Goody had managed to find a way down the ridge and gotten close enough to the town, the whole group of people had already taken off heading south.

“I think I need a barber,” Goody mused after they had left their horses in an empty livery, there hadn’t even been any stable hands around; and he was running a hand underneath his chin.

They found the barber in a practically empty saloon. Goody sat down in the chair while Billy fetched them drinks from a disinterested barkeep.

“You’ve come at the wrong time,” the barber said.

“I’m just here for a shave,” Goody said dismissively, “I don’t need an audience listening to me regaling them with tales of my adventures.”

“You don’t?” Billy asked, mildly, with a straight expression. Goody scoffed. And turned to the barber again.

“The mine must be profitable if it has everyone working there.”

“Not really,” the barber said and started working. Goody frowned.

“Then where is everyone?”

“Off to chase a dragon.”

“A dragon?” Goody said, and he managed to fake an incredulous tone very well.

“The two lads working at the hardware store for their old man, John and Martin, they came by sayin’ they’d seen a dragon flyin’ over town. Naturally nobody took them seriously, but then more and more respectable folks came in sayin’ they’d seen the same thing.”

“Forgive my scepticism,” Goody said, in a tone that said he wasn’t looking for forgiveness for anything. “But that does sound a bit too fanciful even for me.”

The barber shrugged, and Billy flinched hand almost reaching out because the man’s blade was awfully close to Goody’s throat for Billy’s comfort.

“Whether you believe it or not don’t matter much. You see James, the pastor’s good for nothin’ son – no man of the cloth that one – rounded up all his friends declarin’ they’d ride after the dragon, probably to kill it. And once that started goin’ around most men of town decided to join in on the hunt.”

“They are going to get themselves killed,” Billy mumbled, mostly to himself.

“You didn’t fancy a dragon hunt, yourself?” Goody asked. The barber shook his head and patted his left leg.

“Got a knee that likes actin’ up on long rides. ‘Fraid I’m stuck here, and Old John over there behind the bar is older than the street.”

“I have a cash register to guard.” the barkeep said.“Last time I left it unattended, Linda Morrisons’ two brats came in and stole every cent I had.”

“Was James who put them up to it,” their barber confided in them. “Was the only one who could still sit down the next day without wincing though.”

The barber finished with Goody who rose up and looked in the mirror handed to him before turning to Billy.

“So, how does it look?” He asked. He had kept the beard around his mouth, but it was neatly trimmed now. When Billy’s eyes fell on Goody’s lips he had the visceral memory of the feeling of those lips against his own, and he had to fight against a blush that made him want to look away. He could still feel the damp breath from Goody, the way he had kissed Billy back, the cold rain, and how warm Goody’s mouth had been in contrast. Billy shivered a little and forced himself to give Goody a crooked smile.

“Looks okay,” he said. Instead of the word _‘handsome’_ that almost forced its way out of his mouth, because that was the correct word to describe the way Goody looked. Very handsome.

Goody looked back in the mirror with a small frown and hummed before he shrugged and handed the mirror back to the barber, along with a few bills.

“Very well done,” he said and turned back to Billy.

“So what do you say, a couple of drinks, perhaps a bite to eat and then off on the road again.”

“You should look out for the dragon,” the barber said. Goody laughed, as if he still thought it all just a hilarious joke, while Billy asked: “Which way did it go?”

“South.”

“Well, good thing we’re not heading south then, isn’t it, Billy.” Goody said and winked at him. Billy snorted. And he smiled on the inside, it was nice seeing Goody so cheerful after everything that had happened.

**~*~**

They made camp near an abandoned barn that night. Goody looking over the horses while Billy started a fire and began preparing a dinner for them.

Goody finished with the horses, but before he fully joined Billy by the fire, he stopped and looked south.

“They are going to kill their horses trying to keep up,” Goody said, with all the distaste he felt evident in his voice.

“What?” Billy asked.

“We should see some sort of sign of the posse ahead of us, but we’re not which means they aren’t resting for the night.”

“We left later than them,” Billy said. “And my horse is adapting her speed after yours.”

“She’s not,” Goody said, and judging from Billy’s surprised and confused look he either hadn’t realized himself, or he thought Goody hadn’t realized.

“Apple can definitely mess with Mallory-Jane’s stamina. Though I am not sure how.”

“Magic,” Billy said with a shrug, and then continued where they’d left off: “Better for them to kill their horses than to catch up and get themselves killed,” Billy said, matter of fact.

“They might succeed,” Goody said. Billy gave him a look full of doubt.

“Not likely.”

“Why are the two of us going after a dragon if you think not even a whole town of armed men can take it down?”

“I’ve got a bit more going for me than just a rifle,” Billy said.

“Pride goes before destruction, and a haughty spirit before a fall,” Goody murmured. Before sitting down by the fire opposite from Billy.

“Then what do you have to say about yourself accompanying me?” Billy asked with a smile.

“It is a fool that looks for logic in the chambers of the human heart,” Goody said, honestly, maybe too honest and too open. Billy looked at him for a long moment and then nodded. They sat in silence as Billy finished with their meal, and neither of them spoke while they ate.

It was later, when Goody was rummaging through his bag for his flask, that he found the knife, Billy must have put it back there… after– He paled and swallowed hard. He remembered the rain, cold and wet down his back, and a snarling he realized came from himself as he lunged towards Billy. He remembered straddling Billy on the ground as he was asleep, and putting the knife against Billy’s throat.

He shook himself and walked back to the fire. Sitting down despondent.

“Maybe you should tie me up when we’re going to sleep,” Goody said quietly, looking at the fire. But from the corner of his eye he could see Billy look at him with a concerned frown.

“Why?”

“In case I try and kill you again.”

“You won’t.”

Goody whipped around.

“How can you be so sure?”

“Because I took care of it,” Billy said slowly. “I killed him.”

“Who?”

“The one who invaded your brain,” Billy said.

“And can’t he be replaced.”

Billy shook his head.

“Not easily. We’re far from the breach now. They aren’t going to find us again.”

Goody still wasn’t convinced; and when he went to sleep he heard it again, the sound of wings beating in the air, but when he looked up at the only still standing wall of the barn he couldn’t see anything on top of, thought that didn’t necessarily mean there wasn’t a bird – an owl – on top of it.

**~*~**

Billy glanced over at Goody. The man was more jumpy, skittish even, tense and silent as they rode the next morning. And Billy knew, he just knew that it was because of him. Billy had betrayed his trust, had withheld things about himself. He should have killed the stranger the first time he saw him, not let him gain access to Goody’s brain, yet another example of how Billy continued to let Goody down.

Around noon they caught up with the posse that had left the last town; at least what was left of it. Corpses of half eaten horses lay in a pile, the bodies of fallen towns people had been gathered together to be brought back for a funeral and in the middle of it all stood four young men.

“How can you just give up?!” One of them screeched in a question, he was in the middle of the group, blond hair, and so loud Billy and Goody who were still at a distance heard him clearly.

“We are going home, James,” one of the other said. The guy, James, spun around to face him.

“Just because you are a coward, John.”

“Who is the coward here I wonder,” another guy asked. “You who cowered behind a rock the whole time or John who actually tried to help.”

“I did not hide by some rock,” James protested.

“Martin’s got a point,” John said. “You did hide behind a rock.”

“He did not,” the fourth and last person protested. James put his arm around his shoulders.

“See, Mikey here, knows what happened.”

“Figures your best boot-licker would stand up for you, even if it means lying through his ass,” Martin said.

“What did you call me?!”

“Guys, guys,” John stepped in. “We have a lot of ground to cover without horses if we’re going back, we should get moving.”

Billy turned to Goody.

“I guess I was wrong,” Billy said.

“What?”

“They didn’t all of them die.” He glanced back to the young men and saw James stomping off heading south, Mikey following him. “And seems some didn’t learn a valuable lesson.”

“I still don’t understand why you think things will go different for us,” Goody mumbled.

“Fortune favors the bold,” Billy said, with a smile, pleased when Goody smiled back at him.

They continued on and made camp that evening without having seen the dragon, but plenty of traces of it, as well as Billy’s horse getting tense and agitated. They were close now.

“I think we’re close to it now,” Billy said once they were sitting by the fire and eating dinner. He had concluded that tricking the dragon into returning to its own world was probably the best solution, but the ‘how’ remained elusive. And he was distracted by Goody, the way the other man had been tense the whole day was making Billy worry, he tried to convince himself it was because they were chasing a dragon, but part of him couldn’t shy away from the fact that it could just be being around Billy was what was making him nervous.

He looked into the fire, and forced himself to try and remember anything he had heard about dragons in the past, but having grown up thinking they were extinct, they hadn’t been of much concern to him.

“It’s following me again,” Goody said suddenly, breaking Billy’s train of thought.

“The owl.”

Billy automatically looked up behind Goody, but all he could see in the darkness was an empty tree. He looked back at Goody again. The man looked tense, worry creasing his features.

“It’s not,” Billy said. “It’s gone.”

“I can see it,” Goody hissed.

Billy scooted closer and reached out towards Goody who flinched. Billy swallowed down the hurt inside of him and instead pointed to make Goody turn around.

“Is it behind you?” Billy asked and Goody nodded.

They both looked at the tree behind Goody.

“All I see is a tree, Goody.”

“You can’t see it,” Goody said, part hurt, part dejected, part angry.

“If it was there I would see it,” Billy said. He sat back, but didn’t move back to his previous spot. Choosing instead to sit near Goody who turned back to him.

“Why do you think it’s following you again?” Billy asked instead. Goody looked down at the ground.

“Because… I tried to kill you.”

“That wasn’t you.”

“But it was!” Goody protested. “Why else do I remember it?! I remember trying to do it, I was trying so hard to kill you.”

“And you didn’t.”

“Because you are better, stronger than me,” Goody said and looked into the fire.

“Goody,” Billy said, his voice soft. “Goody, look at me.”

He grabbed Goody’s chin gently in one hand and turned Goody’s head so that they were looking at each other, the distance between their faces only two hands.

“Would it feel better if I told you how hard it was for me? How hard it was because the last thing I wanted was to hurt you. Hurt you more than I already had.”

“Why?” Goody whispered, his voice fragile. “Why did it matter?”

“Because… Because…” It was too much, the truth, too much could go wrong with it. “I let you down, I should have protected you better. I knew…”

“What did you know?”

“I had seen him,” Billy said. “I had seen the man who took over your mind. I scared him away before, but I should have killed him right away. I thought… I thought I could protect you from him. But I failed, and so he made his way into your mind. It was all my fault, and if you hadn’t been with me... Because you were around me you were targeted.”

“And I wouldn’t have done it any differently,” Goody said. “It was my choice to be around you, and I would never have chosen any differently.”

“But you might have,” Billy protested. “If I’d been honest about my past, if I hadn’t kept it a secret from you that you might be targeted.”

“Yes, I would have liked to know those things before,” Goody said, and it was a deserved and well earned hurt in Billy’s chest. “But, I still would have chosen you.”

“You can’t know that,” Billy protested. This time it was Goody putting a hand under Billy’s chin and lifting his head up to look into Goody’s eyes; familiar, comforting eyes, eyes Billy trusted still.

“Yes, I do know,” Goody said. “Because I will always chose to be with you.”

“Why?” Billy asked. Voice trembling.

“Because you made me whole again,” Goody said, and his voice was so raw, so honest Billy had to believe his every word, as he continued: “You found a piece of me that I was missing; my will to live, to carry on; you gave me something to work for, something to drive me on.” And hearing it put into words, knowing that he had made Billy whole, just as Goody had made Billy find something he had been missing. An inner peace, knowing that he was treasured, knowing that he was worth something, that someone could like him, it had been everything he needed.

“And I,” Goody paused and swallowed. “I am so afraid that you will send me away.”

“Why would I do that?” Billy asked, genuinely baffled.

“Because I tried to kill you.”

“So many people have tried and failed to kill me.”

“I don’t want to be one of them.”

“Why not?”

“Because I… I care for you too much. I never want to cause you hurt.”

“You never have. There is only one way you could hurt me.”

“How is that?”

“Why do you ask?”

“So that I know what to avoid doing.”

“I can’t tell you,” Billy said. “It would be too selfish of me. Too controlling. You need to make your own decisions.”

“My only decision these days is you, Billy Rocks.”

They had leaned in closer to each other, unconsciously, so close what used to be a distance between their faces had now shrunk down to a mere inch. They were silent for a beat and then Goody whispered: “Did you kiss me?”

“Huh?”

“I suddenly had another flash of a memory, of you kissing me, in the rain”

“I was…” Billy started, blushing slightly.

“Trying to get through to me?” Goody asked, but there was something amused in his voice.

“Something like that.”

“Would you... “ Goody started, and Billy started to lean in even closer, when a noise in the bushes made Billy sit back and turn around.

A second later three men jumped out of the bushes and before Billy had managed to do much more than throw himself towards his knives, his knife belt lying too far away. Both he and Goody had been overpowered and tied with their arms against their sides. And as they were frog marched away from the fire Billy recognized the men. It was the three bounty hunters the dragon had taken with it. Billy had to admit he was surprised to see them still alive, perhaps dragons weren’t very bright after all, not if this one hadn’t clued in on the fact that these three men had no idea where The Lost Court might be; if it even existed.

They were taken around the cliffs, and there Billy discovered a cave. Jack walking in the lead picked up a discarded torch, which he lit and walked ahead of them into the cave. Billy walked behind him, with John next to him, a tight grip on Billy’s arm. Behind them walked Goody and Ezekiel.

“Boss!” Jack shouted as they got a little bit further into the cave, and Billy saw a large fire pit in the middle of the room; lying in a half circle on the opposite side of the fire was the very long dragon.

“We found these two lurking outside the cave.”

The dragon lifted its head and eyed them both curiously.

“That one isn’t from this world,” the dragon said. John shook Billy’s arm a bit.

“Yeah this one’s a fugitive,” John said, ”there’s a pretty large bounty on his head, so we’d appreciate if you didn’t eat him.” The dragon made a dismissive noise.

“With what I can give you if you assist me in accomplishing my plans, I can’t understand why you would care for something as insignificant as a bounty.”

The three bounty hunters shared a look. The dragon didn’t see it. It was stretching its neck out to look behind Billy.

“And this one?” The dragon asked. Goody was pushed forward, and stumbled towards the dragon.

“Goody,” Billy exclaimed and made a move forward without thinking. An elbow was pushed into his stomach and he doubled over with a cough.

“Oh, is this one important?” The dragon asked. Jack pushed Goody even closer, so that he was within reach of the dragon, it put its snout next to Goody who was pale as a ghost and looked ready to bolt as the dragon gave him a big sniff and then moved its head away.

“He has a curious smell, but I fail to see his importance.”

Billy growled and took a step forward, John and Ezekiel grabbed his arms and held him back.

“Leave him alone!” Billy demanded.

“I fail to see how you can make any demands,” the dragon said.

“Leave him alone and I will get you what you want,” Billy said, straining against the hold on his arms.

The dragon paused.

“And what,” the dragon started before it slithered over to Billy, the large head looking at him with calculating eyes. “Do you think you know, about what I want?” The dragon asked.

“I know you’re looking for The Lost Court,” Billy said.

“What do you know of it?”

“I know these three are leading you on a wild goose chase,” Billy said. “Hey!” Ezekiel protested. Billy continued. “But I know where it is.”

“Why should I believe you?” The dragon asked, while also eyeing the three bounty hunters with some skepticism.

“Because I belong to The Lost Court,” Billy said, borrowing a little bit of Goody’s flair for the dramatics, because it was not going to be easy to sell it to the dragon, people often claimed to be from The Lost Court. People very rarely – never – managed to prove such claims.

The dragon moved its head closer to give Billy a scrutinizing look. Billy shook his arm free from Ezekiel’s grip and opened up his shirt to pull it down and show his lack of a mark. If he could sell that everyone from The Lost Court had invisible marks.

“It never left,” Billy said, “it simply went invisible, just like our marks.”

“I don’t remember you,” the dragon said.

“I was born later,” Billy answered hoping that would work as an explanation. The dragon eyed him.

“Those little tricksters!” The dragon exclaimed and reared up on its hind legs and away from Billy. “That’s just like them!”

“Wish we had thought of that,” John mumbled behind Billy.

“If you go back through the breach I’ll tell you how to get there!” Billy shouted to the dragon, which had moved to a corner to mutter agitated to itself in a language Billy didn’t understand.

“Billy?” Goody called out, a question in his eyes. Billy tried to convey with his own eyes that everything would work out. Now he had a way to trick the dragon into returning to the other world, saving this one.

“Yes, yes,” the dragon eventually settled down and slithered over once more. “You will help me, we will set off to the breach again.” It cut its eyes to Goody. “But first perhaps a snack.”

“If you kill him I won’t help you,” Billy said adamant, he was not under any circumstances going to lose Goody.

“Does he need his legs?”

“Yes.”

“You are so demanding.” The dragon heaved a long suffering sigh. “Fine I won’t harm him.”

It turned to John, Jack and Ezekiel.

“Now, about you three…”

“You still need us!” Jack shouted.

“Yes!” John shouted.

“We will serve you loyally!” Jack shouted. The three of them were suddenly on their knees, with foreheads pressed against the stone floor in a deep bow.

“Did you lie to me about knowing the location of The Lost Court?” The dragon asked.

“No!”

“Ye– No!”

“He’s the one lying!”

Came three shouted answers. The dragon looked unamused.

“He’s an assassin, Oh Great and Powerful, Liang, Destroyer of Worlds,” Jack started.

“Did you give that name to yourself?” Billy asked before he could help himself.

“No...” the dragon glared at him. “Maybe… That’s none of your business!” The dragon turned back to Jack. “I want to hear what you have to say.”

“Uh… You can’t trust him.”

“And I can trust you?”

“Yes,” Jack said. “Because we will make sure he doesn’t try to run off, and once you know how to get to the court, you can give him to us to go and collect the bounty on him.”

“Hm…” The dragon murmured. “I can understand that. Alright. You will guard these two prisoners,” it said in a commanding voice, but then added in what sounded like slight disbelief: “I have prisoners.”

Goody who had so far been uncharacteristically silent, possibly due to fear in front of an actual dragon finally spoke up.

“How old are you?” he asked. The dragon reared back up and looked at him.

“What kind of question is that?” The dragon asked and then got very very close to him. “Can’t you see how big I am? I am very old,” the dragon insisted in the kind of voice a child would use to convince you of something obviously untrue but with which they completely believe to be true.

“Ah, yes of course,” Goody said. “I can tell, you are a very old and wise dragon.”

The dragon looked pleased.

“Do you want another example of my wisdom?” the dragon asked.

“S–sure,” Goody said, and Billy really thought wisdom was to not disagree with a dragon, but he didn’t say anything.

“The breach can only be closed from the side the hole was made,” the dragon didn’t see the way Goody shot a look at Billy. Billy who hadn’t known it could only be closed from one side, that he would have to return in order to close it. He felt his heart sink in his chest.

“I never actually got to the bit about how to close it, I was too preoccupied with trying to open a way between the worlds.”

“How did you know there was another world?” Goody asked, sounding actually curious.

“The one who broke open the stone I was born in told me there were more worlds,” the dragon said, a dreamy voice as it looked away. “Worlds separate but similar; the barriers between worlds as fragile as glass.” The dragon frowned, it had a very expressive face Billy thought, for something that wasn’t human it showed a lot of very human expressions.

“They made glass seem a lot more fragile than what it turned out to be,” the dragon muttered. “Anyway, no one will be able to stay on this side if they originally came from the other world, as soon as the breach starts to close everyone and everything will be brought back to where it belongs.”

“So you could have opened it and then closed it again,” John said. The dragon turned its head towards him.

“Huh?”

“Yeah, if you had just closed it after you opened it, if The Lost Court was on this side wouldn’t it have just come here?”

The dragon was silent for a moment, its brain working away, and then the dragon’s eyes widened.

“Oh, oh that’s true,” it said like it just came to a realization. “Oh, but that is brilliant!” The dragon came up to Billy.

“It doesn’t matter if you are lying or not, I will find the court in the end. And I will pay them back.”

It seemed very pleased about this.

“Prepare for departure,” the dragon said, and the three bounty hunters, still on their knees scrambled up on their feet and pushed Goody and Billy together.

“Do you know what you are doing?” Goody asked Billy in a whisper. Billy nodded and tried to look like he meant it. Even though he wasn’t quite sure he really knew; not with the recent revelation.

~*~

They all sat in a line, cross legged on the back of the dragon as it sailed through the air. The wings rarely flapping, instead they coasted on the winds and something magical, the same way Billy could manipulate gravity he suspected. Jack sat in front near the wing-joint, with Billy behind him. Arms tied behind his back, he could probably escape from the bindings, but it seemed needlessly risky to do so mid flight, and instead he sat there obediently, mind whirring trying to come up with ways to solve this whole situation he found himself in, but the increasingly desperate scenarios running in his mind, seemed all of them ended in death, and they were very disheartening.

He had assumed they would be flying through the night, but as dusk fell the dragon landed on the plains.

“It’s not safe to fly in the dark,” the dragon murmured. Billy wondered what it thought could possibly happen if they flew in the dark, especially here, where even the buffalo were wingless. There was nothing to crash into in the air.

“Make me a fire,” the dragon demanded.

Billy and Goody were forced to carry wood, still with their hands bound, but now in front of them.

“Poor, Mallory-Jane, Goody said as they carried what sticks and branches they could find. “She’ll think I’ve abandoned her.”

“I’m sure, Mal, will be fine,” Billy said. Trying to seem reassuring.

“She’ll be broken hearted,” Goody said. Billy didn’t really think she would be, but he also wasn’t sure what Goody wanted to hear, and so stayed quiet while they finished building a large fire, under the close supervision of Ezekiel.

When the fire was lit by the dragon, Billy and Goody were pushed down to sit back to back on the ground. The bounty hunters sitting close to them.

“So,” Goody started, addressing the dragon. “Why are you looking for The Lost Court?”

“Because those tricksters took my gem,” the dragon said and puffed out his chest where a green stone in a pendant hung on an iron chain. “This is the pretend one they gave me in exchange for their thievery.” It laid its head down on the ground and stared into the fire. “Maybe… Maybe I lost it on a bet. But they tricked me into betting my gem! I need my gem,” the dragon said.

It breathed out a despondent sigh, making dust and sand while up, and a tiny little lick of a flame came out of one of its nostrils.

“I need the gem if I want to stay big,” the dragon continued. “And I explained that to them, but they said I promised, and asked if I was a liar,” the dragon sounded like being called a liar was deeply insulting. “But they said I could have this fake gem in exchange if I did them a favor.”

“What was the favor?” Goody asked, sounding curious, and Billy had to admit he was kind of curious as well.

“I had to guard this one human, and as long as I did that, the fake-gem would stay intact, and work just like my own gem. But if the human escaped, or if anything happened to the human, the gem would crack, and stop working.” The dragon said. “Easy, I thought. I didn’t know the human would try to fight me.”

“So I had to eat him.” It said, rather matter of fact, before it rose and came around the fire to show the gem. “And look how much the crack has grown!”

Up close the stone did indeed have a rather long crack going through it from the top of it almost to the bottom.

“I thought if I could find the court before the crack reached the bottom I could make a new deal. They never said anything about the human fighting back.”

“Oh, of course,” Goody said, and Billy wished he could see Goody’s expression.

He leaned back a little firmer against Goody’s back, letting himself seep in the warmth from Goody. They’d be back at the breach in a day or two and Billy still didn’t know how to solve this situation. He wondered if he could stall, until the gem cracked completely and the dragon would be small. Which brought up the question of, how small was it when it was a small dragon? Because it might think being only as big as a horse was being too small, and that would still be a rather too large dragon for Billy to fight.

The best plan was still to walk through the breach with the dragon and close it from that side, at least then the dragon couldn’t wreck havoc in a world unprepared for magic. But Goody would have to stay here, for his safety. Billy would have to leave him, his heart hurting simply from thinking about it. Even if Billy could give both the dragon and bounty hunters the slip once the breach was closed, then what; Billy would be back in his world, and Goody would be in his, both of them alone again.

He was going to miss Goody, and he wanted to scream at how unfair it all was. To cut short the most important relationship in Billy’s life. What would even be the point of trying to escape in his own world if he didn’t have Goody?

~*~

After two days Goody could confidently say he didn’t enjoy dragon-flying as a mode of transportation. The wind was cold and biting, even with the sun shining down on them. And a dragon’s back was definitely not made for sitting comfortably on. And Goody’s legs were cramping from sitting cross legged for so long. But all of his discomfort didn’t change the fact that he would gladly let them continue if only it could delay their arrival at their destination perpetually. He was left alone in silence with his thoughts for way too much time, it was impossible to talk on the dragon’s back mid-flight, and in the evenings he and Billy weren’t given any privacy to talk to each other. However, he would still like to extend this travelling for a little longer because arriving at their destination would mean it was the end.

His wish was not granted as soon – too soon – they neared the breach. Where the large hole had been made the breach was like a shining beacon, visible even from air, and Goody was surprised no one else had noticed it.

It was a bumpy landing as the dragon landed near the breach, and everyone started clambering off it. Goody found it particularly tricky to get down with his hands tied behind his back, and his knees almost gave out and he stumbled when he got down on the ground. But all of a sudden Billy was there, supporting him with two, unbound, hands on Goody’s arms.

“Wha—” Goody started, a little confused, when Billy silently led him away from the dragon – which had started going on about how once it had taken back its real gem it would force the people of The Lost Court to amass an army to take over the world – and pulled him down a distance away behind a couple of large rocks and a tree.

“How did you get free?” Goody asked, as Billy started to untie Goody’s arms.

“Amateurs,” Billy mumbled. The ropes fell free and Goody turned around to face Billy while he massaged his rope-burned wrists.

“Are you really going to do it?” He asked, and looked down at his hands for a moment before meeting Billy’s eyes.

“What choice do I have?” Billy asked, he didn’t sound defeated, his tone of voice so matter of fact, as if it was a given that he should do this.

“You will be handed over to the authorities,” Goody said.

“I can give those three amateurs the slip,” Billy said, sounding like it was something simple.

“But you will be stuck there, on the other side,” Goody said. “They might send actual experts after you. At least…” He stopped. He couldn’t bring himself to say it. Couldn’t say say _‘at least let me come with you’_ because he couldn’t take it if Billy declined, if Billy said he was too much of a liability, too weak. If he’d had a stronger mind and resisted then maybe it would have been different. Instead he looked down at his hands again and said: “They’re going to capture you and—”

“That’s ...—”

“Don’t.” Goody interrupted, and he looked back up at Billy again. “Don’t leave.”

“I have to close the breach,” Billy said.

And Goody wondered why Billy had appointed himself the guardian of this world. Maybe that had been Goody’s fault as well, Goody meeting Billy and being curious about the things from the other world. If Billy hadn’t met Goody would he have made his way far from the breach?

Meanwhile Billy continued talking: “your world. It can’t handle what’s beyond it. And there’s the dragon.”

“You heard it, when the gem cracks it’ll be small again.”

“And what if by its standard, small is still the size of a horse? It can cause enough havoc even at that size.” Goody wanted to protest, but he supposed they had only seen what it could do against a lightly armed and poorly prepared mob from one town, they didn’t yet know how it would fare against a cannon, or a gatling gun.

“It’s going to be pissed off anyway when there is no court,” Goody muttered instead. Looking down at the ground.

“Goody,” Billy said, but Goody didn’t lift his head. Couldn’t look at him.

“Do you want to leave?” He asked instead, forcing his voice to stay steady and not tremble with all the emotions he felt about that one question.

“Of course not.”

“Of course, you don’t want to be captured I–”

“That’s no– Goody.” Billy’s strong and sure hand suddenly gripped Goody’s chin. “Goody look at me.”

Goody let him tip his head up so that he was looking into Billy’s warm, brown eyes. And Goody’s heart ached; he couldn’t– didn’t want to say goodbye to those eyes.

“I don’t care about that.” Billy said. There was something like steel in his voice, and it was so sure to stable that Goody’s couldn’t do anything but believe the words. “I want to stay right here with you. I can’t bear the thought of leaving you.”

Goody wanted to look away from the sincerity in Billy’s expression, but he couldn’t he was pinned under his gaze.

“I’m sorry,” Goody said.

“Why are you apologizing?”

“If I hadn’t forced my way into your life, you’d be better off.”

“Is this about you trying to kill me again.”

“It’s about everything,” Goody said with a sigh. “About me being weak, about me making it hard for you to make a decision, about being so selfish in wanting to keep you here even though I know the reasoning for you having to leave makes some kind of sense but...”

“Do you want me to leave?” Billy asked, his face so open and earnest, and there really was only one answer in Goody’s heart, but...

“I should say yes. Right? For the sake of the world and all that?”

“And has the world deserved it?”

“No,” Goody answered. “I want you to stay here, with… with me. So, no.”

“Why?” Billy asked. “Why do you want me to stay?”

“Because I… I can’t say it.”

“Why not?” Billy asked. “You think I don’t feel the exact same? Were you not listening when I said I want to stay here for you. Just because it’s you, no other reason.”

Goody took a deep breath.

“I lo—” He was interrupted by a twig cracking, and both he and Billy turned towards the noise.

Billy letting out the most annoyed sigh Goody had ever heard him make, and the withering stare he shot Ezekiel was so intense Goody was surprised Ezekiel didn’t fall down dead on the spot.

“Come on,” Ezekiel said, brusquely, apparently not noticing how Billy was glaring at him. “Not trying to run away are ya?”

“It crossed my mind,” Billy muttered before rising to his feet and holding out a hand for Goody, which he took and let himself be helped up on his feet, Billy stepping in front of him, and not letting go of Goody’s hand, instead letting their fingers twine together.

“Give us two seconds,” Billy said. Ezekiel looked dubious at the two fingers Billy was holding up with his free hand. “I promise we are not going to try and outrun a dragon on foot,” Billy said.

“Two seconds,” Ezekiel said and turned walking a few paces. Before Goody had say anything Billy pulled him in behind a tree.

“Are we going to—” try and outrun a dragon on foot, had been the ending to that sentence, but before Goody could finish it, his back was pushed against the tree, and Billy’s mouth was silencing him.

Goody’s eyes fell close and he returned the kiss with equal fervor. Hands buried in Billy’s soft hair, he pulled a little at the strands between his fingers and Billy let out a soft little gasp before nipping lightly at Goody’s bottom lip.

“I’ve wanted to do this for so long,” Billy murmured between kisses, and Goody hummed in agreement.

“Two seconds are up,” Ezekiel called out, and Billy leaned back, and muttered darkly.

“I am going to kill him.”

“Of course, cher,” Goody said. The endearment slipping out before he had even realized it. But the smile Billy turned back on him was brilliant.

“You are, the best thing that’s happened to me,” Billy said, earnestly. “Don’t ever doubt or forget about that.”

“I won’t,” Goody said, solemnly.

And then Ezekiel, who had been joined by John came around the tree to drag them back to the opening of the breach, and Goody’s heart which had been soaring a moment ago, plunged down to the ground, because this was it.

“What are you waiting for?” Billy asked the dragon. “Head on through the breach.” The dragon put its head very close to Billy and eyed him suspiciously.

“I think you should go through first,” the dragon said.

Billy crossed his arms and didn’t look the least intimidated.

“And what if someone is waiting on the other side?” Billy said. “I’ll never help you if I get captured as soon as I step through.”

The dragon thought it over for a moment. Goody could see it thinking in the way it tilted its head and eyes lost focus before it looked straight at John, and even pointed at him.

“You will go through first with me. The other two make sure this one goes through as well.”

“Yes, boss,” Jack said. And pushed John who had been hesitating, forward. The two entered the breach and disappeared in a flash of light.

“Now let Goody go,” Billy said. Goody wanted to protest. He wanted to come with Billy. Even if it meant leaving his own world, and an uncertain future in case they couldn’t escape on the other side. Before he or anyone else said anything however, Jack suddenly punched Goody in the solar plexus. The sudden punch so unexpected Goody leaned forward gasping for breath, the pain radiating through his body.

“What the hell?” Billy exclaimed and took a step forward. Goody felt his hair being gripped and he was dragged up straight and felt the cold muzzle of a revolver pressed against his neck.

“I think,” Jack started in a low voice. “That you need to learn that you’re not the one giving orders here.”

Goody saw Billy’s jaw clench, and his fists clenching and unclenching.

“We’re bringing this one to use as leverage to make sure you behave,” Jack said. And Goody hadn’t wanted to be parted from Billy, but he also didn’t want to be some pawn to be used against Billy either. This wasn’t how it was supposed to go. He shouldn’t have to see the worry and concern flash across Billy’s expression, It was so quick and such a minute change of expression Goody didn’t think the other two caught on until Billy sighed, and his shoulders lowered, resigned. Billy could probably take them on alone, even weaponless as he was, but not even he would move fast enough to save Goody from getting a bullet through his neck.

“I’m sorry,” Goody said. Billy shook his head, “Don’t…”

Billy was pushed towards the breach by Ezekiel, and the two walked through, and Goody was dragged towards it by Jack.

Goody remembered how Billy had described the feeling, but he still wasn’t sure how to prepare for actually feeling it as Jack pushed him through it and he stumbled forward.

He stepped down on green grass and had time to see a flash of purple sky in between the tree branches above, before strong hands landed on Goody’s chest.

“I’m sorry,” Billy said. “I love you.” And the last thing Goody saw was Billy’s face before he was pushed back through the breach.

**~*~ THE PAST ~*~**

“Stop moving.”

“I’m not doing it on purpose, its slippery.” Billy said with a laugh, and then grimaced at the sting in his leg. “You know I could just heal it myself,” Billy said, but sank further down into the warm water of the tub. Leg resting on the edge of the tub where Goody, sitting on a stool was dabbing at the wound on Billy’s leg with a piece of cotton drenched in alcohol, at least trying to, because Billy’s leg kept slipping on the wet edge of the tub.

“Your way of healing takes energy out of you,” Goody said, there was a frown between his eyes, and Billy suspected the tone of voice betrayed actual concern. Most of all though Billy was surprised that Goody had not only noticed that, but that he was caring about it. There was something pleased and warm taking root in Billy’s stomach as he watched the man he had only known for two months, and Billy found himself smiling a little.

“And you are already exhausted enough,” Goody continued. He had finally finished with the cotton swab, the bloody thing discarded on the floor where it started soaking up the water that had sloshed over the edge. Billy sank even further down, the water was so hot and it felt great for his sore muscles; and he was exhausted. He longed for a good night’s sleep in a bed. They didn’t stop in towns very often, in fact they almost never stopped, but the last fight had taken out a lot of him; plus the leg wound Goody hadn’t stopped fretting about.

“I said stop moving,” Goody admonished, and Billy felt his own smile broaden.

“Sorry,” he said. And finally Goody looked up at his face; a thread between his lips and a needle in one hand.

“You are not sorry,” Goody said, but as he picked up the end of the tread and started pushing it through the needle Billy saw him start to smile as well.

Goody’s hands were steady and sure as he stitched Billy’s wound together. He clearly knew what he was doing, even though it stung a bit, Billy watched Goody’s hands and his face as he worked, his focus entirely on what he was doing. It wasn’t the first time Billy was getting stitched up, but it was the first time he felt so relaxed around the person doing the stitching up, and he had to kind of marvel at how quickly and easily Goody had slotted himself into Billy’s life, and how Billy enjoyed having him there. He cheered him up, but also Billy liked the way his own actions put a smile on Goody’s face, it was a mutually beneficial relationship, where they looked out for each other in small ways and big ways. It had been strange at first, but as he was getting used to it, well, he didn’t really want to go back to being alone again.

“Alright, done,” Goody said and bit off the thread before getting up from the stool and Billy slid his newly stitched up leg down into the water. The water was still warm and he looked up at Goody.

“You want a turn to wash up before it gets cold?” He asked, and Goody shook his head.

“No, you enjoy it till the end. I can wash up in the morning.”

Billy hummed, content and stretched in the tub as best he could, sighing a bit and closing his eyes for a moment, and when he opened them he saw Goody looking at him.

“You sure?” Billy asked.

“Hm… Oh, yes, don’t worry about me.”

“Then don’t do things that make me worry about you,” Billy mumbled. Last week Goody had almost gotten his arm ripped off throwing himself in front of Billy to shield him even though Billy had shouted at him that he didn’t need to do that.

“What was that?”

“Nothing.”

“Good. I’ll help you wash your hair.”

“I can wash my own hair,” Billy said. “It’s not my arms I injured.” But Goody had already moved the stool to behind Billy’s head, and soon Goody’s hands were in BIlly’s hair.

Billy leaned back and closed his eyes, as Goody rinsed through his hair and carefully worked out the knots.

“Mmm, that feels good,” he murmured after a little bit. He knew technically his hair was cleaned already, but Goody was massaging his scalp, and it felt really good, he wanted to indulge himself a bit and enjoy it a little longer. “You should do this.” Billy murmured.

“Do what? wash hair?” Goody asked, a laugh in his voice and Billy felt himself smile a little, a slow content smile.

“Yes, you’re good.”

“I used to help my sisters wash their hair,” Goody said. “When I was little.”

“They must have been lucky having you for a brother,” Billy said.

“More that they bossed me around,” Goody said. “Do you– Did you have siblings.”

“No.”

“Well, I won’t talk ill about my sisters, I love them dearly, but sometimes when I was a child I did wish I had been an only child,” Goody said instead of probing with more questions, and launched into an improbable tale of a prank pulled on him by his two sisters. While he continued to massage Billy’s scalp. And Billy thought he could easily be lulled into sleep like this, Goody’s hands playing with his hair and his smooth voice filling Billy’s ears with that particular twang of accent that made everything he said as sweet and thickly moving as molasses.

His heart felt soft, and as relaxed and open as the rest of his muscles. And he supposed this was how Goodnight Robicheaux managed to worm his way into not just Billy’s life, but into his very being as well.

**~*~ THE PRESENT ~*~**

Jack’s punch landed in Billy’s side, making him gasp from the pain. Next to them the white light of the breach winked out of existence.

“Already acting out are you?” Jack said, but Billy was only barely paying attention to him. His mind still on Goody, on the last he had seen of Goody’s face. The last… He wanted to close his eyes. Wanted to curl up in a ball, no matter that he repeated its for the best didn’t change the pain his heart was in. He loved Goody and now he was just supposed to come to terms with never seeing him again.

The knock to his head got him spinning and he turned around and slammed his fist into the side of Jack’s head. Jack stumbled to the side and Billy threw himself at him wishing desperately for his knives, because his heart was breaking in his chest and he needed to do _something_.

“You don’t get to use him against me!” Billy shouted. And punched Jack in the chest before he could block him. An uppercut following it snapping Jack’s head back. “He’s safe!” Billy had kept him safe. Goody was safe, that was what mattered.

“Cut it out!” Someone shouted and suddenly two pairs of hands were pulling him away from Jack. He struggled and fought against them, trying to shake them off. His chest felt like it was caving in. He was breathing hard and everything hurt. How was he supposed to just move on. He was in love and he knew the feeling of being loved back; how was he supposed to just forget about it and go on with his life. What little time he had left…

He sighed and stopped struggling. What was even the point. If The Lost Court even existed Billy sure as hell didn’t know where it was, so if he wasn’t eaten by a dragon he would either be handed over to The Courts by these Amateurs who had just lucked out, or by some other bounty hunter. And without Goody here... Billy felt the fight drain from him. Goody was safe, he had to be satisfied with that.

There was a loud crack, followed by the dragon’s breathy voice saying: “Oh, no! Oh no! Oh no!”

Ezekiel and John dropped their grip on Billy, John grabbed Jack, and the three of them hurried towards the dragon. Billy was about to turn around to check what the fuss was about when he heard something else. Something that sounded a lot like knocking.

Billy frowned and took a step closer to where the breach had been. He could no longer feel it, but he was definitely hearing something. He tilted his head to hear better, but it was difficult with the dragon shouting.

He looked over to where the dragon had been standing and saw it running towards him and – Billy frowned again – shrinking?

“Do something! Do something!” the dragon shouted. Billy looked down at the pendant swinging wildly, the crack looked bigger, and the color of the green gem looked dulled.

At that moment a white light flashed next to Billy.

**~*~ THE PAST ~*~**

_Infatuation_ wasn’t the right word for it at all, Goody mused while he watched Billy who was sitting cross legged on the ground, calling his horse over by holding out a half eaten apple. Something hot curling around Goody’s heart, making it swell with, _fondness_ perhaps. Infatuation is what his oldest sister, Grace, had called it when she had seen the way Goodnight and his second oldest sister, Hope, had watched the man who eventually became Hope’s husband. Grace had been talking about how their expressions at the time. And that was all that it had been, a youthful infatuation, at a time when Goody’s fancy could be caught by almost anyone who walked past with a beautiful face, a pretty smile and a kind word directed at Goody.

War had stolen such frivolous thoughts and feelings from Goody, much like it had taken Hope’s first love from her. What Goody felt now, it was found in the depths and not on the surface.

_Affection?_ Certainly, he thought, there was much affection, but he also felt affection for Mallory-Jane, and his siblings, and of course his mother.

He watched the way a smile broke across Billy’s face as his horse came to him and started munching on the apple. Billy stroked a palm down the white blaze in the center of Apple’s face. And Goody’s heart picked up speed, beating out of rhythm and out of time.

He looked down at the apple in his own hands, he had no idea when or where Billy had procured them. The breach had taken them a little further south until they found themselves at the edge of a forest in New Mexico, a pleasant spot of green after all the hues of yellow and red in the desert. They were far from any apple orchards however, and yet here he sat, trying to protect his apple from Mallory-Jane’s increasingly thieving tendencies.

He looked up and caught Billy watching him, something in that dark intense look making something else pull in Goody’s stomach. _Yearning_ he thought, as Billy looked away again, focusing on his horse and his hand stroking her head. Yearning and _lust_. That was what he had put it down as first. Because to begin with what else could it have been? That first feeling of laying his eyes on Billy, when he had thought him to be the most beautiful man he had ever seen. It had quickly turned into something else however, where affection had come into play, affection and... He shouldn’t get ahead of himself.

He took a bite of his apple, and watched Mallory-Jane give him a dark look before she wandered over to a lump of grass underneath a pine tree.

It was all there though, the signs the words: desire, appreciation, adoration, longing, devotion… _Love_. Yes, love that was the right word, wasn’t it?

He smiled over at Billy and his horse, at the way the other was smiling and so relaxed in the sunshine. And Goody’s heart felt just right.

Love, yes. He was in love with Billy Rocks.

**~*~ THE PRESENT ~*~**

Goody opened his eyes just as the white light of the breach winked and went out of existence. His whole body tingled, his fingers, his feet, his lips felt numb. And he wished his chest would be numb as well, anything to take away the pain in his heart.

Nothing was left not even the trees, the only thing growing was a lone cactus and pale mushrooms lining the foot of the canyon wall, certainly no trees, it was as if they had never existed, winked out of existence like the breach, like all the mystical magical creatures, like the dragon… like Billy.

Had he been real? Had any of it ever been real? Had Billy been real? Or would Goody wake up any second now and realize he had been dreaming? No, not even Goody’s imagination could have made up all of the past months. It had to have been real. He pinched his own arm just to make sure; and he was pretty sure that the ache in his chest could only be real.

Goody closed his eyes and found himself reaching out towards the breach, towards his last memory of Billy, and a sob wrenched itself out of his chest like he was throwing up a jagged piece of glass it tore through his throat. It felt as if his chest turned itself inside out as he continued to sob. Trying to keep the image of Billy’s face alive in his mind, he reached out without thinking and picked up a rock, which he threw towards where the breach had been; followed by a second rock; and a third; and a fourth.

It was around the fifth rock he opened his eyes, his cheeks wet with tears, and saw the rock drop down in the dust. He frowned. He threw a sixth rock. The rock arched through the air, hit a seemingly invisible wall and dropped to the ground.

Goody reached out fingers dragging through the rough dirt until he reached another rock. Grabbing it, he stumbled to his feet and took the two steps he needed to get to where the breach had been.

Something was stirring in his chest, something close to hope, but he didn’t want to think about it too much, it was too close to false hope.

He took a firm grip on the stone and he swung it with all his might, but as it hit nothing he overbalanced and fell forward onto hands and knees. With a burst of anger he threw the rock away with a frustrated yell. The false hope crumbling to dust in his chest, but then his eyes fell on the little pile of rocks he had thrown before. It was still there, it had to still be there he thought. And that thought was followed by _“I need a bigger rock.”_ He scanned the area for the biggest rock he could see which he could also lift.

Armed with a new, bigger rock, this one he needed both hands to lift, he started smashing it into the place he thought the wall between worlds would be. Over and over, and it kept hitting something, there in the middle of the air, he could feel how the rock hit something and stopped the forward motion, even though he couldn’t see anything.

He was going to do it, he thought, his mind frantic, and he was sweating and panting a little bit. He was going to save Billy.

Soon he could see spider web-thin cracks appearing in the around where he was hitting the rock, glowing faintly, but they were there. Pausing to catch his breath, and watching the cracks with a sense of satisfaction hope once again bloomed in his chest, giving him more energy and he slammed the rock against the wall. A loud sound, like glass crashing to pieces followed. Panting Goody stared at the small hole, and then threw the rock at it, and as it crashed through the hole grew bigger, white light spilling out almost blinding Goody.

He thrust his hand through the hole. It started tingling, and he was wondering if he should just climb through, when a hand closed around his wrist, and Goody smiled. He didn’t need to see to know that it was Billy, Billy’s grip, Billy’s strong hand, his gloves, the calluses on his fingers, the way he was grasping Goody’s arm, and Goody closed his hand around Billy’s wrist and started pulling.

That hope in his chest he hadn’t allowed himself earlier unfurled like a blooming flower, filling him with warmth and a buzzing excitement.

Goody started stepping back as he pulled, and he could see Billy’s shirt clad arm come through, and there was a jubilant feeling in his chest mixed with surprise.

But then all of a sudden he heard Billy’s voice going: “Wait! Ow! Let go of me!” And Goody almost lost his grip in shock. “No not you!” Billy shouted and Goody continued to pull until finally he and Billy fell down on the ground.

Goody scrambled until he was sitting up.

“You’re back,” Goody said, voice full of amazement.

“Hold that thought,” Billy said, and scrambled up to kneel up so that he could put one hand to the hole Goody had made and then did a twisting motion with his hand, and the hole started shrinking slowly, but getting increasingly faster the more Billy twisted, until the bright light winked out of existence. And then he turned to Goody.

“How?” Billy asked. “How did you open it?”

“I hit it with a big rock,” Goody said and then made his way so that they stood still on their knees, but their kneecaps pushed together so that Goody could put a tentative hand on Billy’s cheek.

“You’re here,” he said, amazed, and overwhelmed. Billy’s skin was warm underneath his hand and Goody smiled.

“Thanks to you,” Billy said, and wiped his fingers beneath Goody’s eye. “You cried.” Billy said. “For me?” He asked like he couldn’t quite believe it.

“I love you,” Goody said. “I couldn’t watch you disappear knowing you would die.”

“You don’t know that, I could have managed to escape them.”

“That was part of the problem,” Goody said. “Not knowing.”

Billy softly brushed his hand down Goody’s face and tugged a little at Goody’s mustache with a small smile.

“The beard suits you,” Billy said. “I don’t think I mentioned it, but makes you look very handsome.”

“Oh really?” Goody asked with a smile of his own. “Very handsome. Maybe even dashing.”

Billy tilted his head in mock thought, before he said: “Yes, very handsome, and very dashing.”

“And you, my cher,” Goody said, “the very first time I saw you, you robbed me of my breath and my first thought was: There stands the most beautiful man I have ever seen in my life.”

“Oh really?”

“Yes.” Goody moved his hand to brush his fingers along Billy’s jawline, while Billy dropped his hand to Goody’s shoulder. Goody started to lean in closer.

“May I?”

“I wish you would,” Billy said, and Goody closed the distance between them. Kissing Billy with all his love. Lips moving slowly, languidly now that there was no pressing matter, nothing other than confirming that they were both together.

“I love you,” Billy murmured against Goody’s lips, and Goody had to kiss him again. He would never get enough. He–

“Finally!” A high pitched tinny voice exclaimed.

Goody and Billy sprang apart from each other. Goody and Billy’s eyes met and as one they looked down. Goody was taken aback when he saw a small dragon climb out of Billy’s jacket pocket.

“Is that...?” Goody started. Billy simply nodded.

“You talked for forever!” The dragon complained as it climbed and clambered all over Billy’s jacket and shirt, before making its way out on Billy’s arm, its tail long enough to wrap around Billy's arm. Goody watched it closely.

“You promised me a gem!” The dragon said to Billy. “I want a gem!”

“I did no such thing,” Billy said. “I promised to take you to The Lost Court. But unfortunately, it doesn’t exist.”

“It does!” The dragon protested. “It does! It does!” It jumped up and down on Billy’s arm. Looking very upset.

“Is it weird that I think it’s rather adorable now?” Goody asked.

“I was thinking the same,” Billy said.

“I am not adorable!” The dragon complained. “I am The Great and Powerful Liang, Destroyer of Worlds!”

“You are cute is what you are,” Billy said.

“I want my gem!” The dragon protested. “I wa—” Goody scritched the little dragon underneath the chin and it trailed off. Goody continued to stroke it underneath the chin. “Oh, that’s nice,” the dragon murmured and slowly its head and body lowered until it was lying on Billy’s arm. “Don’t stop,” the dragon murmured.

“Are you purring?” Billy asked incredulous. Then looked up at Goody. “I have no idea why he decided to hitch a ride with me, but here he is.”

“Guess we have a dragon to keep an eye on then,” Goody said with a shrug. He was still filled with so much joy over Billy being here with him. He leaned in and pressed a quick kiss to the corner of Billy’s mouth. And watching the smile slowly start to spread on Billy’s lips had Goody’s heart almost bursting with happiness, and love.

“Now what,” Goody wondered and looked around them. “How are we going to get to the next town?”

“I don’t know,” Billy said. “Walking?” Then he looked down at himself. “I’m going to have to get new knives,” he muttered.

“If you were going to leave me here, at least your deal could have included carrying Mallory-Jane here as well,” Goody said. “If I wasn’t even supposed to go with you at least you should have provided me with transport,” Goody said, but good naturedly.

“She would have hated flying,” Billy pointed out.

“True,” Goody had to admit.

“Guess we’ll sleep here tonight, and start walking tomorrow.” Billy said and leaned in to press a kiss to Goody’s cheek. Goody smiled, and felt his cheeks and ears flush slightly.

“I really do love you, Goodnight Robicheaux,” Billy said. “Thank you for saving my life.”

“I will always save you mon cher,” Goody said. “And I love you, Billy Rocks.”

“Will you two just be quiet already,” the dragon grumbled and clambered up Billy’s arm before curling up on his shoulder to fall asleep.

Goody cupped Billy’s cheek in his hand, and kissed him again because he could and he wanted to. A long slow kiss that made Billy sigh contently, and Goody smile against his lips, as they continued to kiss and kiss, with the sun starting to set, coloring the blue sky in reds and oranges.

**Author's Note:**

> Mind control: In the last half of the fic Goody is temporarily under min control and is ordered to kill Billy. Billy is completely aware that Goody is under mind control when it happens. Its a brief subplot.


End file.
